


Seasons of Love

by Writeonthrough (Schroederplayspiano)



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 22:02:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8914525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schroederplayspiano/pseuds/Writeonthrough
Summary: The year Mike Lawson decides is his last he’ll spend with to his first love, baseball, is the first he’ll spend with his last love, Ginny Baker:When Mike announces his plans to retire at the end of next baseball season, Ginny’s and Mike’s implicit plans for their future romantic relationship are finally acted upon, causing the couple to figure a way to have a personal relationship while leading their team to victory. A love story told in four parts.





	1. Winter

Lightbulbs flashed in Mike Lawson’s face as he sat down for the press conference. His rapid blinks soon turned into winces as the press continued their invasiveness. He should be used to the Padres’ Press Room by now. He remembered a time he even enjoyed the room’s atmosphere, loved the attention, loved the adoration. Now, he just found it all tiring; the pestering questions which were yelled over each other, the endless camera flashes which all captured the same basic picture over and over again, and the press’ familiar faces which all had a weird expression—like they knew him personally rather than the reality of watching him play from a distance and from the rare occasion that he sat before them in his team’s press room.

“I have come to the decision that next season, the 2018 season will be my last season playing Major League Baseball,” Mike briefly peered down at his prepared statement, grateful to have a reprieve from the camera flashes for a moment. “I would like to make it clear that I have come to the decision thoughtfully and reflectivity with the support and friendship of my teammates. As many of you have pointed out with my brief injury last season, my body is no longer in its prime. My decision is one I am confident in and feel is the best decision for myself and my teammates. Time has come to close this chapter of my life and while I look forward to playing one last, final season with the Padres, I also look forward to starting the next chapter of my life—whatever that may be—”

Entitled yells of “Mike! Mike!” demanded to be answered before he had fully finished speaking.

Relived to finished his speech and to finally make private decision public, Mike managed to remind himself to enjoy the attention while he still could.

A reporter in the front row won the first question, “Why make your announcement now?” She shrugged, making her curly hair bounce a little. “Why not wait to announce at the start of next season?”

“Well, Anne,” he finally linked her name to her curly hair at the last second. “For two reasons, really. I wanted to start the off season with a clear head—without having to keep my decision private for months. With making the decision public at the end of this baseball season, I have the advantage of not having the news linger—this is my last public appearance until Spring Training so you guys won’t follow me around pestering me with questions,” small bouts of laughter were traded among the reporters. “Which really leaves me to my second, main reason for announcing now—I didn’t want to have the Padres start their season with news that could distract from the game and is focused on one player rather than the team as a whole.”

“Going of your last point, Mike,” a reporter he didn’t recognize spoke up before the yells of the others could begin. “Two years later, it seems the buzz sounding Ginny Baker’s historic position has finally settled. It’s no secret that you two work well together. Should fans worry about her performance after you retire?”

Mike scoffed off the new reporter’s question. “Any true Padres fan knows Baker is not defined by her catcher. They’ve seen her pitch with many other catchers since joining the team.”

“Yeah, but Mike,” the reporter insisted over others’ attempts to voice their questions. “You, more than anyone, brought her into the league and have been one of her biggest advocates. If fans shouldn’t be worried about Baker’s performance without you, should they worry that you’re leaving—perhaps your greatest contribution to MLB, your greatest legacy—behind?”

Mike wished he had time to soak in the feeling of Ginny being called his legacy in public, but he was too busy diverting the media from negative spin. His voice deepened, hoping to put an end to the subject. “I’m not leaving anyone behind. I live here. The Padres are my team. Not to mention the obvious fact that—Baker’s not a rookie anymore and her accomplishments are entirely her own.”

The entitled, impatient yells of his name erupted again. A reporter cramped to the side spoke through them. “You have formed some really tight bonds with your teammates—mainly Sanders and Baker. Reports suggest the last time you almost left the Padres, neither of them were too happy. Are they happy now? How did teammates take the news?”

“As I said, Joe,” Mike curved his neck to address the reporter in the corner. “All my teammates understand and support my decision. We’re a close-knit team, now more than ever, and I did talk to them before holding this press conference today. They are all happy for me and we are looking forward to playing one final season together.”   
“And Sanders and Baker,” a tall reporter followed up. “How did they take the news?”

Mike swallowed and pushed his tongue into a side cheek. For the reporters who knew Mike Lawson his whole career, the sign was obvious: the question hit a nerve. Two more beats passed before he provided an answer. “To be honest, Harry, I don’t think they cried about it quite enough.”

“Seriously,” the reporter named Harry spoke clarified. “They’re supportive of your decision to retire after next season?”

“Listen,” Mike leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “I know you guys are looking for drama or a scandal here…and I know it must be even more frustrating to have no drama or scandal with a team that has the only woman in the league, but,” he took a deep breath and found his sincerest expression. “I am telling you. There is no drama or scandal surrounding my retirement from the Padres.” After another beat, he asked, “Next question?”

* * *

Rain pounded against Mike’s tall glass windows. He turned off the TV and watched the water hit the glass as if he’d never realized its force before. Mike used to hate the rain. With good reason, too, he hated anything that kept him off the ball field. Today, however, it didn’t bother him. He enjoyed it, actually. The rain delay on their last game of the season was a welcome respite for his breaking-down body; and the rain storm tonight somehow filled the air with a mystic quality as memories replayed in his mind.

_“They said twenty minutes,” Ginny complained as she walked into the Padres workout room, not surprised at all to find Mike stretching alone. “And it’s been—like—double that about of time.”_

_He chuckled at her annoyance, finding it cute rather than aggravating. “Don’t get grumpy on me now, Rookie. I thought that was my job.”_

_“It is your job,” Ginny emphasized and then froze in her tracks, realizing something and pivoting back to him. “And what are you doing—calling me ‘Rookie?’ I haven’t been a rookie in over a year.”_

_Mike caught her eye and declared, “Yeah, but you’re always be my rookie.”_

_Ginny’s heart thudded in her chest. There it was again: Mike’s allusion to their deeply personal— yet to be, but destined to be, romantic—relationship. He’d been dropping hints, saying little comments for weeks now—ever since he told her he’d planed on announcing his retirement after next season._

_She couldn’t help but drink him in. As if his declaration gave her permission to stare at him—and him permission to stare right back—she could have sworn their bodies pulled closer together as they did so. Feeling the gravity between them, Ginny couldn’t help reciprocating, “And you’re always be my old man.”_

_Mike looked down for a moment, hiding his growing smile from Ginny. “Yeah?”_

_Ginny’s smile, on the other hand, beamed across the workout room. “Yeah.”_

_The space between them now filled with a language known only to them. The secret language they had worked on for two years and now perfected. Every word, every curve of a smile, every movement of the head gave each other new information, a new sign with which they could read each other perfectly._

_As they stared at each other, their team turned rowdy in the distant locker room signaling the end of the rain delay and soon clamorous footsteps started down the hall. If Ginny or Mike registered the noise, or its significance, they gave no notice, each lost in the moment._

_“Guys!” Blip’s head peaked into the room, the rest of the team rushing out behind him. “The game’s starting back up, let’s go!”_

_Mike moved first, standing on his feet, giving Ginny a last smile and their usual head nod before stepping towards the hallway. She nodded back, but didn’t move otherwise, watching him round the door mold._

_“Hey,” she called him back. He reappeared before her in an instant. “Since when do I hate rain delays more than you do, old man?”_

_An odd expression of wonderment rushed over his face. That is, only odd to Ginny, who thought she had memorized all his expressions as part of mastering their secret language._

_Anyone else looking at Mike’s expression, however, could tell it belonged to a man in love. He tried shaking it off, but it returned as their eyes met. “Since our first rain delay together when realized I was in love with you, Rookie.”_

A knock at the front door ended the memory. Mike turned from the rainy window at the noise. Butterflies erupting in his stomach as he made his way towards the woman he knew would be on the other side of the door, relishing in the giddy feeling he didn’t think he would ever feel again. He opened the door to the rain, letting the mere sight of Ginny Baker overwhelm him.

Her lose hair fell over her shoulders in wonderful waves rather than her usual unruly curls he’d grown to love. A low neck, teal blouse floated over the waist of her skinny tight jeans, the bottoms of which were covered with zip-up boots that had a slight heal. Ginny’s rested her palms in her back pockets, which supported her raised shoulders and complemented her current expression: a contradicting mixture of scared-shitless and who-gives-a-fuck, complete with the same hopeless-in-love look he’d given her earlier that day.

“I’m in love with you, too,” she announced over the storm.

The words Mike had been waiting to hear for almost two years filled his ears and he couldn’t breathe. He hung on each sound that came from her lips, replaying it in his head before the next sound came, as if to record it to memory. His chest rose and fell with each quickened heartbeat. “Yeah?” A smile teased his lips, but soon disappeared as he drunk her in once more.

Tiny raindrops landed on her hair ends, including her eyelashes. When she blinked the water added sparkled to her cheeks, the same sparkles that illuminated her wavy hair. Ginny shrugged once more, completing her stance with a head nod, before reaching out and taking his bearded face between her palms. “Yeah,” she promised before capturing his lips.

His synapses fired at her touch. Parts of his body, parts he didn’t know he had—or were long forgotten—came alive. He parted his lips to her and she stepped closer, sinking into him as he wrapped his arms around her lower back and closed the distance between them. She kicked the door shut, deepening their kiss and entangling their tongues together.

He moaned as she did so, pulling her backwards towards the stairs up to his bedroom. His hands drifted to the bottom of her teal blouse and pulled it over her head in one fluid motion. Their lips returned to each other like magnets before the cloth hit the floor. Ginny reached across his broad shoulders and peeled off his jacket and grabbed his grey cotton shirt, tugging it off in one, two, three pulls. Mike let out a small chuckle at her attempts as the shirt dropped down and then reached for her again, tightening his hold around her torso, savoring the feel of the bare skins touching for the first time.

Their lips continued to taste one another as they made their way up the stairs and into his bedroom. Once they made it through the door, Mike unhooked Ginny’s bra and spread his fingers wide over her smooth back. Ginny released his lips at the touch and buried her face in his neck. By the time she recovered, he had already brought them to the bed, undid her boots and tugged off her skin tight jeans and underwear and then reached for his own sweatpants.

Ginny covered his hands with hers and finished removing his sweatpants and boxers. Kicking them to the floor, she stole a glance at their pile of clothes thrown together before she felt the intensity of his stare on her skin pull her back to meet his eyes as he looked down at her.

Then her breath caught. For years to come, she would remember this moment—the moment right before the two of them became one—when he looked at her with all the love in the world, more love than she knew existed. She read his silent signs and responded right back, feeling safe and loved in his arms. He read her movements and reacted in turn, never pushing forward until she was ready.

Ginny reached for him as he entered her, running her fingers through his beard and guiding him down to kiss her. Their lips mingled together, their kiss deepening with each thrust—until Ginny broke away, unable able to suppress vocalizing her pleasure.

Mike kissed his way down her body as she did so, delighting in the ability to finally taste her creamy skin. His kisses trailed her cheek, her neck, and her chest before capturing her breast between his lips. She arced into him as he continued, pushing her nipple further into his mouth. His hand soon replaced his mouth on her right breast as he shifted over to give attention to her left.

Each touch was electric between them. Each movement new, and yet so familiar. Their bodies fit together so perfectly it was a wonder how anyone else could possibly be any sort of match for their own bodies except each other.

* * *

“So…” Ginny spoke through the silence as she lay back-to-front, enfolded in Mike’s arms. “Remind me why we waited so long to do that.”

“Hmm,” he murmured, lowering his chin to place a kiss on her neck. “You tell me—we agreed it would be your decision.”

“And yet,” she twisted around to look at him, unable to stop herself from resting on his chest. “My decisions are a response to you,” she whispered, reaching up and running her fingers through his hair. “Just like they always are.”

Mike closed his eyes at her touch, basking in the feeling. He had no reply to her, or at least not one he was proud to share. When he stayed silent, she leaned down for soft kiss. His response to her kiss said more than his words ever could—soft and gentle, yet hungry and craving for more, like he regretted waiting so long as much as she did.

While they both regretted waiting so long when they pulled apart and looked into each other’s eyes, they both knew it happened at the right time for them; that all the pieces came together and all the right things happened so when they did start their romance, they were confident in their new relationship—which, wasn’t really new at all.

“So…” Mike echoed Ginny’s casual tone, cuddling closer. “Didn’t you say you had no plans for Thanksgiving?”

“Or Christmas,” she reminded him. “My family’s made other plans and I’ve honesty been looking forward to making my own, new traditions.”

“Hmm…” Mike murmured again, this time picking up a lose curl and turning her soft hair between his fingers. “That sounds good. Mind if I join you in your new traditions?”

Ginny couldn’t hide her joy at his proposition. “I was hoping you would.”

Mike mirrored her smile and tightened his hold around her back. He kissed her again, this time running his fingers up her bare spine as he did so. “I am never letting you go, Ginny Baker.”

“Hmm,” she leaned in and captured his lips. “I’m going to hold you to that Mike Lawson.”

“No-I mean, yes—you should, but I meant,” he gave her a squeeze. “I am literally-physically, never letting you go. I am holding onto you until a good enough reason arises that I am forced to stop touching you.”

Her smile grew, “Well, neither of us has anywhere to be until Spring Training in February. So, I’m all yours until then.”

“Until then?” Mike raised an eyebrow. “What about after then? Or during then?”

If Mike examined her closely enough, which—of course—he did, he could see a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. She knew he spotted it when his grip loosened.

“It’s not that I’m not all in, Mike, because I am,” Ginny professed. “I just don’t want to spend your last baseball season explaining our relationship or defending it or taking any focus away from baseball because of it—”

“I don’t want that either,” Mike agreed before she could finish. “You know that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she nodded and rolled off him, careful not to put distance between them. As she thought of a solution, one hand made its way back to his bare chest.

“No one has to know.” Before long, he reached over and covered it with his own, leading it over his heart. “We can do this, Ginny. I promise you. If anyone can do this, we can do this. There’s no one I trust more in the world than you.”

She nodded, “And there’s no one I trust more in the world than you.”

“So…” he curved his fingers so the backs of them drifted over her cheek as they moved into her hair. “Screw everybody else. Our relationship has two people in it—you and me, just us. As long as we trust each other and respond to each other and love each other, everything will work out.”

Ginny watched him speak. He was so different here, in bed, naked and vulnerable. He spoke softer with a different kind of confidence: one that made her feel safe and loved rather than one that gave her the focus to throw the ball. Somehow, he still empowered her, though, leaving the final decision up to her.

“You and me,” she whispered before initializing round two. “Just us.”


	2. Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine’s Day falls on the day the rest of the team arrives for Spring Training, causing an emotional day for both Ginny and Mike. As Ginny figures out a way to seperate her boyfriend and her catcher on the field, Mike comes to terms with starting his last season. And that’s all before they learn their secret isn’t as hidden as they once thought and a unexpected visitor opens old wounds.
> 
> A/N - Thanks to your enthusiastic comments, I started writing and 5k words poured out. I had three main scenes planned for “Spring” — but am very satisfied with how they strung together. I hope you enjoy the roller coaster of fluff-agnst-sexy times. ♥︎ Thanks for the love, guys!

_I'm too hot (hot damn)_  
_Say my name you know who I am_  
_I'm too hot (hot damn)  
_ _Am I bad 'bout that money, break it down_

The crowds that came down to the Peoria Sports Complex to watch the Padres’ Spring Training never failed to attune themselves to the intimacy of their favorite team. In fact, they often accentuated it, thriving off the bond the players emitted and replicating it in their enthusiastic cheers.

 _Cause uptown funk gon' give it to you_  
_Saturday night and we in the spot_  
_Don't believe me just watch (come on)_

Like usual, though, Ginny Baker managed to drown out the fans’ fervent cheers by letting the upbeats of “Uptown Funk” fill her head. Suddenly, the crowds disappeared (as well as the rest of players on the field) and the world shrunk down to the distance between her and Mike.

Their eyes met before he dropped the sign and flashes of the last time she’d seen the same intensity in his eyes replayed in her mind:

_“I’m serious,” he whispered as one hand cradled her neck and the other rounded her bare curves, bringing their naked bodies closer together while similtainouusly flipping their positions so he was on top again. “Let me take you out for Valentine’s Day—or at least let’s order in.”_

_Ginny’s hand stilled on his bare chest, briefly considering his new offer. Her gaze wondered about the hotel room, allowing herself dream of an intimate Valentine’s dinner as Mike’s kisses rounded the curve of her neck._

_Her fantasy ended when she spotted a plane out the hotel window. Unable to let him down that instant, she leaned into him, resting the side of her forehead to his, waiting a beat to raise her lips to his._

_Mike responded with enthusiasm, extending his neck before the rest of his body followed. He pleaded, “Let’s stay in,” between kisses, hoping to seize the opportunity of her silence._

_“You know we can’t, Mike,” she pulled back from him. “The rest of the team arrives today and we always have an annual Spring Training dinner as a team—”_

_“So?” He kissed her to prevent her from speaking. “Not every player goes to that dinner. We can bail without it being a thing.”_

_“I like that dinner,” Ginny emphasized. She broke from him, sitting up and pulling a sheet over her, prompting a disappointed sigh from Mike. “And it’s your last Spring Training with the team. We have to go.”_

_Mike leaned back against a pillow. “But it’s Valentine’s Day!”_

_Ginny couldn’t help but be enamored with his cute frustration. And while her expression softened and her gaze reached out in empathy, she still held her ground. “Okay, this is the whole,” her two index fingers gestured between them. “Us not interfering with the team thing that we promised wouldn’t happen.”_

_“We promised our relationship wouldn’t interfere with the game,” he replied. “Skipping a team dinner is not interfering with the game.”_

_“Are you really going to make me the bad guy here?” She asked softly._

_His mouth opened and then closed, reconsidering. He looked away and then back at her. When he finally let go of his hope spending the night alone with her, he interlaced their fingers and gave them a squeeze. “No…” he whispered, and then raised his voice to add, “Fine. I give, we’ll go.”_

_Ginny’s wide smile spread across her face. “Thank you.”_

_“I must love you a lot, Rookie,” he professed with an intensity in his eyes that made her heart flutter._

Her heart fluttered again when she noticed the same look in Mike’s eyes now. As she twisted the ball in her hand, preparing to throw it, her eyelids slid down (careful not to physically shake the memory from her mind so not to confuse it with shaking off his signal) and she took a single deep breath. If “Uptown Funk” had the power to drown out the crowd and center herself, surely she could figure a way to look at Mike as her catcher and not as her boyfriend. And, despite the fact that her heart’s fluttering had distracted her for the third time in four days, Ginny really believed a solution existed.

She only had to find it.

A solution had to exist that didn’t force her to change her reality, like how the song could clear her head and make crowds vanish from the stands, since everything depended upon being able to see him—being able to read, not only the sign he put down, but his expression as well. The solution to her problem would give her the power to converse in their secret language and still keep their intimate connection without recognizing the romance between them, thus making their change-in-status a non-issue.

The intense eyes belonged to Lawson, she decided, not Mike. Whenever they were on the field, she would force herself to forget Mike and think of him as Lawson—the catcher who instilled strength in her and in the team, the catcher who worked with her and played ball with her, who focused her and brought the best out of her; the same catcher who wanted, more than anything to win a world’s series—his eyes would be the only ones that existed behind home plate from now on.

Ginny drew her knee up and delivered the pitch Lawson asked for with extraordinary force. Another pitch flew by and then another. Ten perfect pitches were thrown as the crowd watched in awe.

Mike stood at the end of her streak and took off his catcher’s mask and yelled from home plate, “What got into you?”

She smirked, “Just warming up, Lawson!”

Mike smirked back. Though he noted the use of his last name, not having heard it from her since October, he didn’t think much of it, and trudged off home plate to give the next catcher proper practice time with Ginny.

The afternoon continued with the same basic routine of the last four days, noting one exception. On the last round of pitcher-catcher exchanges, Mike worked with one of the Padres’ newer pitchers, Patterson, and a careless pitch bounced beneath Mike’s leg and then back up, hitting the underside of his left thigh hard.

Hearing the noise in another corner of the field, Ginny turned at the sound before Mike had a chance to vocalize his pain. Her feet lead her straight to him, stopping briefly to remind herself to think of him as Lawson and not as Mike—which did little to divert her path.

She made sure not to be the first at his side. However, she couldn’t mask her concern when she got there, “Are you okay?”

Mike, on the other hand, covered his appreciation for her concern with annoyance. “It was a screwy pitch,” he said, though when he looked at her, his voice softened. “It happens.”

He winced in pain, causing Ginny to reach out on instinct, but he turned before they could touch. “Ice!” Mike yelled at the dugout. “I need some ice!”

* * *

“How can you possibly be annoyed at me right now?” Mike followed Ginny into her room, pushing passed the door she tried to close.

“Better question,” she corrected him. “How can I not be annoyed at you right now?”

“Ginny…” Mike pleaded, plopping on the bed and adjusting the ice pack on his injured thigh. “Can we not do this? Okay? I’m in enough pain as it is.”

“Well, that’s the price you pay for playing passed your prime, old man,” she retorted, adding a little kick to her words.

He gazed up from the ice pack, thoroughly un-entertained. “Lost all your concern for me, Rookie?”

“Uh,” she bulged her eyes and gestured towards the door. “I think I left it on the ball field when you totally shoved it off—”

“You know why I did that. It’s not that I didn’t want—”

“I know we talked about boundaries or whatever, but I just want to be clear—you’re allowed to come running to my side when I’m hurt but I’m not allowed do the same for you?”

Mike struggled with his words before blurting out, “That-that was before we were together!”

She blinked at him, dumbfounded. “You do know how sexist and hypocritical that is—right?”

“Ginny…” he sighed, pleading. “Come on…”

“No-no, really,” she folded her arms and leaned back against a dresser. “You know that—right? Because if it was me hurt you wouldn’t be having this conversation. Not to mention the fact that you pushed me away because you didn’t want a girl coming to your rescue—”

“I did want you coming to my rescue, okay, Ginny? I will always want you by my side, coming to my rescue, but that’s not the point,” he paused, waiting for her to interrupt him. When she didn’t, his voice lowered and he slowed down. “The point is while I did want you by my side, you can’t be there on the field—not the way I want you to be and not the way you want to be.” His expression reached out to her as she focused on her cleats rather than on him. “And you’re right, there is a double standard. And it’s not just because we’re together. So, yes, it is a bit sexist and a bit hypocritical, but I don’t know what to tell you because if you were hurt, I would always be the first to your side, so…” He searched her, waiting until he had her full attention. “Sometimes, life is just not fair, Rookie, but that’s how it is.”

Ginny nodded and shuffled her feet, loosening the grass from the bottom of her cleats. “You’re always be the first to my side, huh?” A playful smile teased her lips.

Mike picked up on her lightheartedness and watching her gravitate towards him, he reached out to encircle her back. “Always. Even when I’m in the stands and you’re still playing I will, somehow, be the first to your side,” he proclaimed and tilted his chin up for a kiss.

“Hmm,” Ginny gave him the kiss. “That seems like pretty tall order to me.”

“You doubt me, Rookie?” He asked, running his hands up her back, leaning her into him.

“Uh-huh,” she mumbled into his lips, “Never,” she promised, letting his kiss consume her. He took both her lips between his, silencing her, and then lingered on her top lip. She tilted her head and parted her lips further to him, welcoming his deeper connection.

A knock on the door broke them apart.

“Knock, knock,” Blip’s familiar voice filled the hotel room. “Ginny? You here?” He halted mid-step when he found Ginny stepping back from Mike. “Uh…you know the door’s open, right?”

An awkward silence met Blip’s question as Ginny and Mike stole side glances at each other. She tore herself away from Mike’s layered expression to address Blip’s growing concern.

Or, rather, to divert attention from it, greeting him with a, “Blip, hey!” and wrapping her arms around him for a hug.

Blip reached one arm around her, protruding his chin on her shoulder for a moment, but released her shortly after. Once she stepped back, he resumed his judgmental glare and repeated his question. “What are you guys thinking? Being in here together with the door open?”

While Ginny peered down at her cleats again, Mike smirked at his friend, “I’m icing my injured thigh,” he pointed out the obvious and then added a cocky, “Would you rather we be in here with the door closed?”

Clenching his jaw, Blip looked from Ginny to Mike. “What I want, Mike, is for my teammates to have a little more caution in hiding their frowned-upon-secret relationship.”

Breathes catching at the same time, Mike and Ginny froze. The three of them endured the torture for a moment too long which caused the couple to speak over each other.

Mike started, “How did you—”

“Did Evelyn tell you—” Ginny blurted, provoking Mike to shoot her a look.

“You told Evelyn?” He outraged, recalling their promise to trust each other.

“I told you I talk to Evelyn—”

“Okay,” Mike flinched. “Talking to Evelyn and telling Evelyn are two different things.”

“Evelyn didn’t tell me,” Blip interjected, shutting the both of them up. “I saw you together on New Years, at my party, in my house—and then I talked to Evelyn and she reluctantly confirmed it.”

“A kiss at New Years isn’t—”

“It’s enough, Ginny.” Blip stated firmly.

“Look,” Mike stood, letting his ice pack fall to the floor. “Blip…”

When Blip finally directed all his attention to Mike, turning his back to Ginny, Mike spotted the daggers in his eyes. Worse than the daggers was the hurt and worry that accompanied them. Mike silently pleaded with his friend for understanding.

Blip scoffed it off, though, and returned to Ginny. “Hey…I just came by to see you, let you know I’m here, and that I’m planning on picking you up for the team dinner tonight if that’s still something you—”

“No, yeah, thanks.” Ginny eagerly nodded at him, relieved their friendship hadn’t changed. “I would like that.”

“Great,” Blip responded and started to leave. “I’ll see you in a bit then.”

“Wait,” Mike stepped between Blip and Ginny. “What?”

“Blip and I always go to the dinner together,” she explained softly.

Scoffing, Blip cocked his head at Mike. “You never noticed?”

He left before Mike could respond. Mike’s baffled expression didn’t leave when he turned back to Ginny for an explanation.

But she didn’t have one—or rather, the one she did have, she couldn’t get out fast enough. Her lips moved, but no words came.

Shaking his head, Mike released her from trying, choosing instead to reach out to Blip. He followed him down the hall.

“Blip, hey!” He winced in pain as he jogged. “Wait up!”

Blip stopped walking, and, only after a moment, turned back to him. “One. Year.” He emphasized. “You only had to wait one more year. Why couldn’t you do that?”

“You know I’ve been in love with her forever. I-I didn’t want to wait any longer. Since my plans to retire are out in the open, I figured if we were careful—”

“Careful?” Blip shot back. “You can’t even go to a New Years’ Eve party without being caught, you don’t bother to close a hotel room door, you’re—”

“Hey!” Mike’s voice deepened. “This is none of your business—”

“Non-none—” Blip physically drew back in offense. “The team is my business and Ginny is my business. In a league with all men, it is literally my job to look after her.”

“Our jobs. We’ve both had her back since day one.”

Blip began to shake his head, “No—”

“Day two, then.”

“No, no. You still don’t get it, Mike. If you haven’t noticed the vast differences in how I have her back and how you have her back, then you’re in for a big surprise. Going with her to the team dinner every year? Yeah, that’s one of a million little ways I have her back—” Mike tried to speak, but Blip continued. “And I know she’s an adult and can handle herself. This isn’t about that. The problem is, I am not sure you know what it is about.” Blip took a breath, thankful Mike didn’t try to speak over him for once. Some tension released and he lowered his voice, “I’m happy to have her back, Mike. She’s been a good friend for a long time and she deserves to be here…What I’m not happy about is I now have to watch your back too.”

Mike lost the rest of his fight then, dropping his shoulders and softening his expression to form an apology. “Oh, Blip, that’s not—I’m not asking you to.”

Crestfallen, Blip just nodded in silence, letting his own words sit between them. After several beats, he finished in a whisper, “You know what the worse part is?” He waited. “I can’t even be happy for you guys…I can’t celebrate that two people who totally deserve happiness and are perfect for each other— that my two best friends in the world found each other…” He noticed a flicker of surprise in his friend, which saddened him further when he realized Mike didn’t know he had his unwavering support. “Yeah, it sucks that I have spend my time worrying about you guys rather than just congratulating you.”

To that, Mike had no response. Blip raised his flat palms in a defeated motion, dropping them after a pause, resulting in a thudding noise on his jeans. He pivoted directions, leaving Mike in the hallway alone.

* * *

Drinks clinked together and cheers filled the Padres’ team table. Now that the whole team was together for his last Spring Training, nostalgia hit Mike hard—and all at once. He nursed his beer, drinking in the faces around him; some he knew like his own and others he was only beginning to know. Each face, each person, belonged here, though, and each of them had an important role in his baseball last season.

Especially, his search around the table stopped at Ginny and he lingered on her a moment longer than the rest, her. Oh, how he would miss her.

“Listen up, guys,” he started, clearing his throat.

“Uh-oh,” Livan injected with a smile.

“Here it comes,” Blip finished for him, putting on the same smile.

Ginny eyed Patterson, who seemed a little lost, and explained: “Time for one of Mike Lawson’s famous, over-the-top, speeches,” she announced, leaning forward. “They really do go on far too long, so prepare yourselves.”

Sniggers erupted around the table, all in good fun, as the players gave their beloved captain a hard time. Mike nodded along for a minute, allowing his team to indulge in their fun before the season begun.

“Okay, okay,” Blip settled the table down. “Give the man his due,” he ordered respect—which didn’t go unnoticed by Mike or Ginny.

“Yeah,” Sonny backed him up. Then added with a cocky smile, “Whatever would we do without a start-of-Spring-Training Mike Lawson Speech?”

Mike cocked his head. “Well, I guess you find out next season—if you manage to stay on the team that long, Sonny,” he retorted, producing ‘OoOo’s from the table. They soon faded, though, and the team awaited his speech:

“Ok, here’s what I got,” Mike swallowed. “Since today is Valentine’s Day, after all, I think it’s appropriate to toast the love of the game,” careful to avoid Ginny’s general direction, he focused on his other teammates. “We talk about hard work and dedication a lot, but sometimes we skip over how important it is to love the game that you play and to play with everything you have because,” he finally allowed himself to look at Ginny, “When your whole heart’s in it, it’ll take you as far as you want to go.”

Ginny smiled softly and was the first to raise her beer. “Here, here,” she said and the rest of the team echoed.

Dinner soon followed and the table’s volumed lowered to a small murmur, encouraging more individual conversations. Ginny spent most of the night chatting with Blip to her right and getting to know Patterson to her left.

The murmurs stopped, however, when Ginny spotted an old face in the restaurant’s walkway and sat straighter. She squinted at the man’s shoulder-length, blonde hair and let out an audible gasp when she their eyes met. An “oh my god,” soon followed, grabbing the attention of the entire team.

Blip was the first to follow her eye line, realizing he recognized the stranger. He leaned into Ginny, “Is that—?”

“Jordan!” Ginny’s heart swelled and clenched at the same time when she called her former-best friend’s name. He hesitated for a moment before walking over.

Blip continued to whisper to her. “Did you know he played for the Mariners?”

“No—I—” Too emotional to respond, Ginny covered her mouth when she stood. Her eyes starting to water as Jordan approached. He reached his arms out to her, but said nothing.

Mike watched the stranger enfold Ginny in his arms with bewilderment and some jealousy. Every touch was so charged between them, he could feel the intensity of their interaction from five feet away. Jordan rocked Ginny in his arms and she buried her face in his neck. They held on to each other for longer than Mike was comfortable with, but then broke apart enough so the man could place a kiss on her forehead and say, “Love you,” before releasing her completely—which only increased Mike’s new feelings.

Jordan didn’t give Ginny another glance, though, and addressed the table with a simple, “You guys be good to her, ok?” and then scurried off.

The team focused long enough on Jordan for Ginny to wipe a single tear away and for Blip to ask if she was okay, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Once the players returned their attention back to the table, Sonny waited a single moment to break the tension. “You know, I feel sort of betrayed, Baker.”

“Oh?” Somehow Sonny’s lighthearted teasing lifted Ginny up enough to speak. “You feel betrayed?”

“Yeah.”

“Sonny—” Blip warned very seriously, a tone that didn’t go unnoticed by Mike.

But Ginny welcomed the engagement as an alternative to letting her emotions sink in. “How so?”

Sonny continued, “You swore to the team that you never dated a player—”

She found it in her to scoff. “Ok, first off, I never swore.”

“Wait, so now there’s a difference between saying something and swearing it, because, really—”

“Sonny,” Blip repeated. “You really should stop talking.”

“No, no,” she leaned forward and patted Blip’s arm. “This is fun. Let’s see how deep he can go here.”

Ginny’s comment shut Sonny up, though, and he bit his lip. She felt the eyes of every one of her teammates on her, hanging on her every move. Taking a deep breath, she started, “Okay, here it goes—Jordan is gay,” she felt comfortable announcing since he was out and not the first openly gay player in the league this season. “He and I never dated, sorry to disappoint.” For some reason, the aching feeling in Mike’s chest didn’t fade at Ginny’s reveal. “We were best friends in high school, though, and played in the minors together…now, here’s where you really shut up—” She took a swig of beer and continued. “His dad had a drinking problem so my dad would drive us to most of our games. My dad was always looking out for Jordan and tried to help his dad as best he could—which…is really ironic if you think about it, because when Jordan’s dad finally drove to a game, he ended up being the drunk driver that killed my dad…”

The stunned silence was expected. And she nodded through it like she did every time she told that story (which amount to a total of three times in the last four and a half years). For the first time since Jordan’s appearance, Ginny’s gaze drifted to Mike. She choked back a whimper at the tears glistering in his eyes.

She took another swig of beer. “Bet you wished you stopped talking now…”

* * *

The rest of the night with the team passed somewhat in a daze for Ginny. Somehow, either by Blip’s consideration or Mike’s insistence—she wasn’t sure which, she found herself sharing an uber back with her boyfriend rather than returning with the friend she arrived with. She wished she could express more of her gratitude, but the only expression she had left in her was to rest her head on his shoulder for the duration of the ride.

Mike and Ginny’s comfortable silence, the same one they’d mastered over two years, continued when they walked down the hotel corridor together. They barely touched, only their fingers brushed against each other in the silence. When they reached their room doors, which were across from each other, they halted.

Ginny perked up, as if remembering something when her gaze fell upon his door. “You wanna come in?” She tried offering casually. “I know it’s been a long day and it feels like an even longer night—so we could just sleep,” she shrugged at his caring gaze, “And celebrate Valentine’s Day tomorrow…”

He placed a hand on her shoulder, his thumb stroking it slowly. “Sounds good to me,” he leaned in for a quick kiss. “Let me get my stuff—”

“No!” Ginny freaked for a moment, adding a spring in her step and rushing ahead to block him. “You don’t need your stuff. Sleep naked. And—really—who brushes their teeth every, single, night anyway?”

A smile grew rapidly on his face—a smile she hadn’t seen for hours. Mike lowered his head the half-inch to her eye line and crossed his arms over his chest. “Ginny Baker,” he said in an intrigued voice. “What Valentine’s Day surprise do you have in there?”

“What…” she acted clueless. “I didn’t—I hate surprises…and you know, I’m not that big a fan of Valentine’s day, as I tried-and-failed to express this morning—”

Mike wiggled her eyebrows at her and reached for his key card in his back pocket.

“Mike—” she warned softly, but he had already entered the dimly lit room. Dimly lit, that is, by the two tall candles on the small table she’d brought in. A letterbox chocolate cake was placed between the candleholders.

“Ginny…” he barely manage to express, emotion getting the best of him.

He turned back to find her glued to the wall, a blush coloring her cheeks. He stood before her in awe, finding her rare shyness even more breathtaking.

“This is amazing…” he whispered. He wished he could wrap her up in her arms, but sense it was better not too. “You’re amazing.”

“Yeah…listen,” she shuffled her feet and unglued a hand to adjust a lose hair strand. “I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t a big Valentine’s Day fan and I don’t really know how to do this—but I heard you this morning when you said you wanted a quiet evening together.” She started to ramble, “But who knows if this is what you had in mind, I mean you could’ve been happy with pizza for all I know. So, I just, I-well, you came to dinner for me—and ignoring the fact that it made me a complete disaster—”

“Ginny—”

“I thought I could do something for you—”

“I’m glad I went to dinner—”

“And I know you’re probably mad at me—for like a million things today. And I’m sorry I overacted to your injury and I’m sorry about our stupid fight and I know I probably shouldn’t have told Evelyn about us—at least not without telling you first—but I needed someone to talk to, girl talk is important, you know…And I’m really, incredibly sorry you had to find out about Jordan and my Dad that way—that is so not the way I wanted to tell you…I just—didn’t expect to see him tonight. But, actually, on the bright side, we learned that we can hang out with the team, just as before, without tipping anyone off. Which is a relief—”

Mike’s fingertips on her cheeks finally stilled her. “Ginny,” he whispered. “Stop.”

She didn’t know when or how he’d gravitated to her. As soon as she realized their closeness, though, she leaned into him.

“I’m not mad at you, nor was I ever, for any of it.” He lowered the half-inch to her eye line again, pressing their foreheads together. “There’s nothing you have to apologize for.” He let the words sink in, checking they really did with an “Okay?” moments later. When he felt her nod against his forehead, he couldn’t suppress his urge to kiss her any longer.

She pulled him tight to her when their lips met. Her arms encircling his neck while his fingers steadied on her cheeks. Their kisses conveyed all that words could never say. Each time his lips held onto hers, he wished he could transfer every bit of astonishment she made him feel back to her. Whenever her lips closed on his, she wished she could transfer the same amount of strength to him that he made her feel.

Ginny pushed off the wall. Mike reached for the bottom of her shirt. She raised her arms for him to lift tug it off. Once her arms were free, she took hold of Mike’s collar, using it to pull him to her, and then sliding down it to undo the shirt’s small buttons. They each took the other’s pants off and Mike took her to bed, slowly releasing her from the rest of her undergarments.

After their emotional day, their lovemaking was slower than usual. Extra care went into each touch; their fingers lingering on skin without planning their next movement. Ginny’s hands slid up his bare back, curving over his shoulder blades and pulling him closer—finding more comfort in the closeness. Her eyes stayed closed when he released into her and kissed his way down her cheeks to her breasts. She relaxed into his touch, forgetting the rest of the day’s events.

Mike held onto to her after they finished, enjoying the intimate silence between them. Ginny rested her head against his, grateful that neither of them felt the need to talk. Fully relaxed, an idea popped into her head, prompting a prideful, “Oh!” He perked up as well, watching her scatter out of bed, dragging a throw blanket around her, and rushing to retrieve the small cake and forks to bring back for them to share.

He sat up in anticipation, beaming at her as she handed the fork to him. They shared smiles and dug into the small cake together, mummers of delight soon following it’s deliciousness.

“I got you something too,” Mike finally shared.

Ginny’s classic ear-to-ear smile that he loved so much instantly appeared. “You’re shaving your beard!”

“Oo-oh!” Mike retorted. “Maybe at the end of the season.”

She mumbled something he didn’t catch, but kept her classic smile anyway, shaking her head and taking another bite of cake.

Mike reached around to the bedside table and pulled out a small item. When he turned back to her, he lifted her free hand, placed the item in it, and closed her fingers around it.

Her focus slowly drifted from her closed palm to his gaze. “Mike…”

When her fingers opened, she found what she felt: a key to his house.

“I must love you a lot, old man,” she professed, happy to officially have a second place to call home.


	3. Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The emotional journey to make the decision to tell the team about their relationship is nothing compared to the joy of actually doing so.
> 
> A/N: I finished the chapter as soon as I could for you guys!! Thank you so much for enthusiasm and for waiting and for coming back. I hope everyone had wonderful holidays and a great start to the new year. 
> 
> I am considering writing a series of drabbles that take place during this fic, something like "Measure your life in love." There is just so much drabble/small moment potential within this story/year and I regret every time I run out of space to include Evelyn. So, let me know what you think in the comments and if you have a moment you want to see, please share. Again, not totally committed to the idea--i have so much in my "to write" box anyway, but wanted to know what you guys think (I also know there many wonderful Bawson drabble collections on AO3, so I don't want to take away from the plethora of drabbles the fandom already has). Thanks again, lovelies!

“Ginny…” Mike filled the house with her name before his first footstep through the front door. “I’m home!”

Ginny scampered downstairs to meet him in the kitchen. The delicious smell of Chinese food wafted through the room as she entered it. Her whole face lit up when she spotted Mike and the food.

She didn’t stop until she reached him. Once he set down the food on the counter, he extended his neck into her outstretched hands for a kiss hello. Like usual, though, a casual kiss between Mike and Ginny lasted longer than a quick kiss in passing. After their lips met for a moment, he tilted further into her and she found the perfect place to cradle his face, letting her thumb stroke his cheek.

“It smells so good,” she kissed him again.

“Hmm,” escaped his lips after she released him. “And the fact that you say that at every meal—whether I’m cooking or not, shouldn’t bother me, right?” He noted, unloading the Chinese food containers.

“Pssh…” Ginny scoffed and opened the cabinet to find two clean plates. “No…”

Despite shaking his head, a wide grin appeared on Mike’s face. He pulled the last container out and teased, “You’re killin’ me, Baker.”

Once she saw his grin, the same one replicated on her face. “Then you might be in big trouble, old man.”

“Oh, I knew that already.” They both paused mid-head shake to stare at each other across the room, giving off an ‘If we weren’t so far apart, I’d kiss you right now,’ look.

Ginny shook out of it, realizing she’d paused mid set-down of the first plate. She adjusted its position and then moved over to set the second table place.

“I ran into Livan and Lilly downtown—” Mike started.

Putting the second plate down, Ginny raised her flat palms. “Okay, can I just say, once again, how cute they are together? I mean, it’s not just their similar-sounding names, it’s just how they are with each other: They’re not all ‘over-the-top, gag-me-I’m-love,’ but at the same time it’s clear that they are. I’m so happy for him. He had a hard time getting over his old girlfriend in Cuba.”

“Yeah…you know, I found myself growing rather envious of them,” Mike tried to share casually.

Ginny’s eyebrows pinched together. “Of Livan and Lilly? Why?” A beat passed between them. He turned back to her and she put on a cheesy smile, winking, “Aren’t I enough?”

When he didn’t respond, her donned face fell. She waited for him to speak. “You know you are…It’s just…”

Once she heard validation, Ginny went back to the cabinet and grabbed two wine glasses. “It’s just what?” she asked, absentmindedly.

“They were out together—downtown, walking around and having dinner, as a couple. I couldn’t help imagining us. It’d be really nice to take you out…”

Glass shattered on the floor.

“Fuck!” exclaimed Ginny, the sound of glass shards hitting wood echoing in her head.

“It’s okay,” Mike rushed to get a broom. “No worries.”

“No, no, sorry!” Mentally kicking herself, Ginny took the broom from Mike without him offering it.

“Ginny, I can—”

“No, no—I got it,” she dodged his gaze, crouching down to attend to the pieces. The sharp, resonant glass sounds chinked together with each sweep of the broom. Once all were gathered in the dustpan, she stood and slowly walked to dump it in the trash.

She felt his concerned gaze before she turned back to him. “Look, Mike…”

“I should not have said anything,” he enunciated, full of regret. “I can’t believe I—” He winced. “Ginny,” he tried to compose himself. “I know how much you have to deal with, I see how careful you are and the last thing I want is put pressure on you.”

Ginny swallowed back her emotion. “It’s the middle of July,” she started. “We have more three months. That’s it. And we’ve done so well so far—”

“Yeah,” he said over her, shaking his head. “No, I know. I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she said softly and full of empathy. “Because I do. I—” her sandals suddenly became the focus of her attention rather than Mike. “I really do. Anything to make my life just a little bit less complicated…I just—it,” she found his gaze again. “It…wouldn’t.”

He bite lip, knowing he shouldn’t speak, but soon releasing it to do so anyway. “Sometimes…Ginny, sometimes, I wonder…”

Full minutes passed before she pressed him to speak. “You wonder what?”

“Never mind.” He shook his head and carried the food bowls to the table.

Ginny followed him, pressing. “You wonder what, Mike?”

He sighed, put the final bowl down, shoved both hands in his pockets, and blurted, “I wonder if it’s harder to hide our relationship than to be open with it. I mean, it obviously hasn’t affected our performance on the field. The team is doing better than it ever has. Blip is adjusting to the idea of us. Several teammates have picked up on it, are okay with it, and haven’t said—”

The sound of glass shattering replayed in her head. She winced. “Stop.”

He nodded and an eerie silence followed her order. She wanted to nod back, like she did every time with him, but found that she couldn’t. When he realized his nod didn’t work, he assured her, “Sorry. Won’t happen again.”   
  
Only then did she nod back. His eyes—the ones she knew better than anyone’s, even her own—conveyed how deep his apology went. Her expression softened and she fell into a chair.

They dished served themselves, letting the clanking of silverware fill the wordless space between them. Once again, Ginny felt his concerned gaze on her, but focused on her meal instead, hoping the atmosphere would naturally turn from their wordless silence to the comfortable one they’d mastered so well.

But it didn’t. And they both knew it. In attempt to restore things back to normal, Mike tried a subject they always could talk about: “Are you excited for our series against the Cardinals? Should be fun since we’re way ahead of them this time around.”

Ginny winced again as Trevor’s face instantly flashed before her. “Any other subject for five hundred dollars, please…”

Mike reached across the table to cover her hand with his. The contact connected them for the first time since they sat down and Ginny’s nerves steadied at his touch. She took a deep breath and he felt her relax under his hand. Softly, he offered, “How about you pick the subject?”

Her gaze slowly lifted to his. He squeezed her hand and the corners of her mouth upturned in thanks. She interlaced their fingers, returned his squeeze, and whispered, “Have you given any more thought to your post-retirement plans? You never told me how your talk with Al went.”

Tension left his body at her questions. His shoulders dropped and the creases on his face smoothed. “I didn’t have a chance to talk to Al. He left early tonight.” He watched her lips form an, ‘oh’ before she returned attention to the food. Grateful to share anything with her, he continued, “And I honestly haven’t given much more thought to post-retirement plans. There’s always commentating or coaching high school or college.”

“Mmm,” she agreed as she swallowed some noodles. “I still think you should really think more about taking a break. You’ve been playing for nineteen years, some relaxing time might be good for you.”

He smiled at her consideration. “Yeah, probably. I just think I’d go crazy without something to do.”

She shrugged, a lighthearted expression gracing her face. “Crazy might be fun,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

“Oh!” For a moment, he lost himself in her wondrous expression, falling in love all over again. “You think so, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded with an amused chuckle.

“Well, then, in that case…” He shared her chuckles, beaming across the table.

After a few more bites of food, she remembered to ask about his plans for tomorrow: “So…Is Rachel still coming in early tomorrow to finish that segment up for your retirement?”

“Oh, yeah…” Mike finished his last bite. “If that’s okay.”

She smiled sincerely at him. “Of course it’s okay. I really don’t mind. I’m glad they’re honoring you with a segment and Rachel’s the best reporter to do it.”

“Good,” he watched the honesty on her face.

“Good,” she repeated, glad to find closure on at least one subject tonight.

* * *

The two newest players to the Padres, Patterson and Evans, filled Mike’s and Ginny’s beloved seats at the team’s regular drinks table. Though the table always managed to make room for any player that joined them, the occupied seats at the head and side of the table did not go unnoticed. Between Mike’s mature leadership and Ginny’s womanly presence, team gatherings had a distinctive quality to them. Without Mike and Ginny, the Padres’ table could pass as belonging to any baseball team; even Patterson and Evans had pride that they didn’t belong to just any baseball team.

Having nothing left to talk about, Evans took a swig of beer and finally asked Blip the question on everyone’s mind. “Where is Baker, anyway? She always comes out with us.”

“She was tired,” Blip shared, glad he didn’t have to directly lie.

“So she went home,” Sonny added to the cover-up.

“Tired?” Dusty chimed in. “Since when is Baker tired?”

Blip shook his head. “Does it matter? We all have our days.”

“And Lawson?” Evans continued. “He’s been pretty good about spending time with the team even though it’s his last year. I’m surprised he’s not here.”

Blip brought his beer to lips and took a sip. The problem, he decided, was not that Ginny and Mike were missing—together, it was rather that things were boring without them and they had run out of things to talk about.

“You’re surprised?” Patterson challenged as a waiter came by to replace a pitcher of beer. Patterson scanned around the table, protruding his jaw when no one responded. “Everyone knows Baker and Lawson are together, right?”

How Blip managed to prevent himself from spitting out his beer, he would never know. His gaze snapped to Sonny, who had the same concerned looked in his eye.

Dusty laughed it off and spoke before Blip had a chance. “You must have had one too many, Patterson. That’s the most ridiculous—”

“It’s _that_ taboo?” Patterson leaned forward. “Seriously? Because they stay professional and do a good job—I’m not saying there’s problem—but, we can’t even—”

“It’s Fight Club,” Sonny said over him, shutting him up.

Blip knew his next words would change their world as they knew it. Still, if he didn’t speak, if he didn’t make the limits absolutely clear, they’d be in even more trouble. “Nobody talks about it.”

* * *

_Flashes of lights from the road disturbed Ginny’s vision and she slowed the truck. She noticed the hood’s worn out orange color and realized the truck belonged to her dad—but that couldn’t be. It totaled after the accident._

_“You’re driving too cautiously, Ginny,” her dead dad appeared next to her. “You drive too slow and that can get you in a wreak too, you know.”_

_“P-pop?” She did a double take at the man beside her. He hadn’t aged a day. “What are you doing here?”_

_He smiled warmly at her, his eyes twinkling in the darkness. “This your dream. Why don’t you tell me.”_

_“Why am I driving?” She asked more questions instead of answering his. “You never let me drive your truck.”_

_“Oh, I never drive anymore,” he said, totally at peace. “You’ve been driving for quiet a while.”_

_“Well, where are we going?”_

_“Where do think we’re going?” He asked, emulating a wise spiritual leader. “Where do you want to go?”_

_“I don’t know, Pop.”_

_“You know, Ginny.”_

_“No, I—I—don’t.” She paused for a moment, trying to look at her father’s features. The more she looked, though, the more his features blurred. “Where should I be going?”_

_Her dad shrugged at her. “‘Should’ is a stupid word. I’d stop worrying about what you should do and start thinking about what you want to do. Where do you want to go, honey?”_

_“Pop—talk to me,” Ginny pleaded. “Tell me what—”_

_Jordan suddenly appeared on the opposite side of her dad. He leaned forward so Ginny could see him. “He’s not going to tell you what to do, Ginny.”_

_“I thought you weren’t talking to me,” she told her ex-best friend._

_“I thought you weren’t talking to me,” he emphasized._

_Bill Baker looked between them. “You know, I never thought I would have said this, but, I much prefer when you two were singing and dancing together in this truck.”_

_“Well, we can’t anymore,” the first hint of attitude—or any emotion, really—emerged from Ginny. “Since his dad totaled this truck.”_

_Her dad shrugged at her. “Doesn’t mean you can’t sing and dance together.”_

_Too busy starring at her dad’s peaceful look, Ginny didn’t see the headlights rushing towards her._

_“Ginny!” Jordan yelled out. “Watch out!”_

_She followed his instructions to find Trevor through the windshield of the car crashing into them. His horrified face was the last thing she saw before she heard the glass shatter._

“AHHH!” Ginny screamed herself awake.

“Ginny!” Mike woke at her scream and automatically reached for her. He continued speaking, but she heard none of his comforting words.

She felt his supportive hand on her lower back, though, before she realized she was sitting up— in his bed, struggling to catch her breath. Her palm rose over her tank top to feel her chest’s rising and falling motion. Up and down it went, breathing air in and out. She was okay, Mike was here.

Mike lost a minuscule of panic when she finally looked him. He steadied her as she continued to feel her chest slowing its rise and fall. She wondered if it was his voice that kept repeating the ‘in and out’ guidance she heard or if the voice belonged to the one inside her head.

Neither of them knew how much time had passed before Mike said something different. “I need you to tell me you’re okay.”

Then, quiet tears ran down her face. Despite them, however, she nodded and assured him, “I’m okay.”

“Okay,” he responded, unsatisfied but relieved to hear her voice. The hand he placed on her lower back started to move in comforting circles. “Please talk to me, Ginny. Tell me what happened. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Sounds bites replayed as pieces from the night started to come together. “It was the glass…” she whispered.

He leaned closer to her. “What?”

“The glass…the shattering wine glass,” she muttered more to herself than to him. “From dinner. It reminded me of the windshield shattering when my dad died…”

“Ginny…” he turned her to him, his other hand reaching up to stroke her cheek. “You relived the accident with your Dad in the nightmare?”

“Yeah…” she confirmed in a whisper, still seemingly speaking more to herself than to him. “But Jordan wasn’t with us and Trevor wasn’t the one driving the other car…I should’ve talked to Jordan—he’s mad at me, he thinks I’m not talking to him…And Trevor—why can’t he just leave me alone? I just want him to go away…”

Mike wrapped his arms around her torso and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Jordan’s not mad at you, Angel, okay?” His fingers ran through her wild curls as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “He loves you—anyone at that restaurant could see that. Sometimes, there are no words and you just feel it.” She leaned further into him and his arms tightened around her as a single tear ran down her cheek. “And I’m not sure about this Trever guy but—”

“He—he’s the guy—” Ginny stopped Mike before he made any excuses for him. “Oh, god, you’re gonna be so mad at me…”

“What are you talking about?” Mike turned to look at her and she took the opportunity to scoot away. “I won’t be mad at you, Ginny, I promise. I just want you to talk to me—”

“Don’t promise,” she spoke over him.

Mike’s forehead pitched. “Ginny—”

“He’s the guy who—” she still couldn’t say it. She ran her hands over her face. “He’s part of reason, okay? He’s why I hate playing the Cardinals. He’s why I’m even more careful with you…He’s the guy who—”

The heartbreaking truth dawned on Mike’s face when she couldn’t say it. He drew back, “I’m not the first ballplayer you’ve been with. He’s the guy you first broke your rule for.”

She closed her eyes so she didn’t have to look at him. Unable to speak, she silently nodded.

As expected, he retreated to cover his emotion. In his darkness, old memories replayed as he comprehended new information. “The first time we played the Cardinals—wasn’t that your first beanball game? Their pitcher wouldn’t throw to you…and…and their catcher stopped you from approaching the mound…the same guy who waited for you afterwards…” He dropped his hands, tilting his head at her to confirm. “Their catcher, right?”

She nodded again.

There are some tones of voices impossible to describe—ones so full of emotion that words inevitably pale in comparison. But somewhere, a tone existed between heartbreak and betrayal, yet still full of love and longing, and Mike Lawson found it, “How could you not tell me that?”

Ginny flinched. “I haven’t told anyone that.” She cried out and then paused to let it sink in. “And when was I going to tell you? I certainly wasn’t going to after our third game together—”

“Why not…” His heartbreak and longing returned. “You didn’t trust me? You thought I would judge you for it?”

“Mike…” she finally looked at him, pleading for understanding. “Come on…”

“And in the three years since—we talk about everything and…and you kept this from me.”

She drunk him in, her eyes watering as she did so; the creases on his face smoothed in shock and the sparkle in his eyes dulled in the moonlight. “I don’t talk about it—and…and I didn’t want to hurt you. I love that we talk about everything, but I…I—it’s not—I didn’t do anything wrong with Trevor and I’m really sick of being ashamed of it.” She watched the unsatisfied look on his face, offering, “Perhaps there was a conversation to be had once we were together, but I didn’t owe you anything beforehand.”

“We’ve been together for nine months!”

“Mike!” Ginny pushed herself onto the back of her thighs, throwing a pillow aside as she did so. “I don’t have to tell you how much crap I put up with playing with all men—and it was like—a hundred times worse in the minors, especially when word got around about me and Trevor—to which I had to figure out a way to have plausible deniability or avoid or twist my words so I never acknowledged it.” She swallowed and tried to keep her composure. “Some of them were pigs, okay? They hit on me and looked at me and thought of me piece of ass instead of a teammate. The Padres are so good to me…so you haven’t seen the worst I had to put up with.”

“I’m sure I haven’t,” he stated firmly. “And you’re right that you don’t have to tell me about the crap you take—you know I know…and I see how strong you are to deal with it everyday. But, Ginny, I love you and I want to be with you.” He declared, waiting a moment to emphasize his words. “So, I’m not mad at you and I don’t judge you for having this relationship years ago…What upsets me is this old relationship is affecting our own and you knew that and you chose not to tell me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said with sincerity. “I am really, incredibly sorry. I really should have told you sooner. Because,” she sunk off her thighs further into the mattress. “I love you, Mike. And I do trust you more than anyone. So when I’m extraordinarily careful with us, it’s not because my past history with him—it’s because…I’m scared of not being with you,” her heart fluttered with a declaration she’d never said aloud before.

Ever in awe of her, he blinked her in. “Oh, Ginny, that’s never going to happen,” he promised.

Her breath caught and she let out a cry on the exhale. “Because I’d fall apart if we told the team—or anybody else—and then, on top of losing you, I’d go back to being seen as an object the players try to have their way with instead of as the ballplayer that I am.”

Mike finally reached for her, cupping her cheeks in his palms. “Look at me,” he waited until she did. “You said you trusted me most than anyone, right?” She nodded between his hands. “I’m not going anywhere. I swear to you—I won’t let anything like that ever happen to you again, okay?” He pulled her into his arms, guiding her to rest on his shoulder.

She leaned into him, burying herself in his neck as the night’s array of emotions overwhelmed the best of her. “Okay,” she whispered, releasing the final tears of the night.

He held onto her, stroking her curls as she relaxed in his arms until she fell asleep. He held onto her, burying his bearded chin in the curve of her neck, finding comfort there until he drifted off himself. He held onto as he slept, never letting go until the morning’s alarm forced him to reach out quickly and shut it off before it woke her.

He showered, made breakfast for two, and brought a plate upstairs for Ginny. When he sat beside her, she curved around him in her half-asleep state. They shared a short conversation, in which the only two things she remembered later were that he made breakfast and he was leaving for the park early; forgetting that he offered to stay twice and she insisted he keep his commitment. He kissed her forehead, stroked her cheek, and tried to memorize her angelic, peaceful face, wishing he could stay and stare her all morning.

* * *

 

“Ginny!” Blip rushed to greet her the minute she entered the clubhouse. “You weren’t answering your cell.”

Ginny adjusted her backpack, scoffing at his urgency. “You and Evelyn are exactly the same.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, thanks.” He stayed close, following her as she walked down the hall. He pulled her elbow towards an empty office, “We need to talk,”

“Enough talking, and oh, my, gosh—” she yanked her elbow back once the door closed. “Enough dragging. I am so not a morning person.”

“It’s not morning, Ginny,” Blip noted, unamused.

“What do you want, Blip?”

“Ok, um,” he took a deep breath, his serious gaze lowering to hers on the exhale. “The club got bigger last night,” he announced and then started ranting. “I did the best I could—there was nothing I could do—the only way to shut him up—”

Ginny shook her hand between them. “Wait, wait, wait. The club?” Blip tucked his chin at her and raised his brow. “Oh! The club. You called it the Fight Club. Right. Okay. That’s okay, I, um—”

“I’m sorry,” offered Blip, his regret clear on his face. “I couldn’t—”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Blip,” she waved him off. “You’ve done more than enough.”

He crossed his arms. “Why aren’t you freaking out? What happened? Did you—did Mike decide something?”

“You and Ev!” Ginny extended her forearms in the space between them. “Exactly the same!”

“Ginny—”

“We didn’t decide anything!” She waited until he relaxed. “Everything’s fine. But I do need to find him.” She pointed down the hall. “Is he—”

“Just finishing up—”

“Great,” she walked out the office.

Blip watched her go somberly. “Ginny…”

“All good!” She waved back.

The camera lights directed her to Mike’s interview room. She tip-toed towards it, not sure where she could hide, but her desire to hear the last minutes outweighed an awkward situation of listening in.

Rachel’s voice seeped from the room. “While you announced your plans to retire nine months ago, no further plans have been announced. Do you know what you would like to do next? Is there anything you’d like to tell your fans now?”

Mike adjusted his posture before speaking. “I have nothing to tell the fans now other than to convey my deepest gratitude for their support and love over the years. The team would be nothing without them and I, personally, lean on their support every single game. Padres fans have always had a special place in my heart. So, thank you to everyone who stuck with me and stuck with the team, I am looking forward to being a Padre fan along with all of you next season.”

“Cut.” Rachel directed softly in the small room. Mike had already stood and taken off his microphone by the time she returned her attention to him. “That was great. Thanks Mike.”

“No problem,” he replied quickly, his feet shifting towards the door.

Sensing his impatience, she stood and stepped towards him. “So, what are you thinking of doing post-retirement? You must be looking into something.”

“I-uh-have a few options,” Mike glanced towards the door rather than at his ex-wife. “I actually am considering taking some time off.”

When Ginny heard his consideration, she couldn’t smiling to herself as she tucked her chin and leaned against a hallway wall.

“Really?” Rachel’s voice rose in disbelief. “I can’t imagine you doing that.”

Mike shrugged, “We’ll see,” he said and stepped closer to the hallway.

“Uh, Mike,” she stepped in front of him once he walked far enough away from the camera crew. “Totally off the record, I feel like I should tell you—there was a rumor going around the office this morning that you and Ginny Baker are seeing each other—”

He stopped at her words, looking at her for the first time. “Yeah, um—” Rachel pulled her hair away from her eyes. “I don’t know, I guess some waiter heard your teammates talking about it last night and he mentioned it to someone.” She sped up her explanation the longer she talked. “I told the station you’re not dating. And it’s so sexist for me to bring this up—of course this would happen to the first female ballplayer—but I wanted to make you aware.”

“Ok.” Mike simply blinked at her. “Thanks,” he added before trying, once again, to leave the room.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she raced ahead of him. “That’s all you have to say? We’re off the record.”

He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. Ginny’s words from last night echoed in his head, _I had to figure out a way to have plausible deniability or avoid or twist my words so I never acknowledged it._ “What could I possibly add to your response?”

She stepped back, a little shocked. “I don’t know, I thought you would—”

“I think you’ve handle these over-the-top feminist situations well in the past, so…”

“So…” Rachel continued for him. “It’s just a sexist rumor?”

“Isn’t that what you said?” Mike left her with her own question and escaped the room.

Not two feet ahead of him was Ginny, still leaning on the wall with one foot raised against it as she chewed on her bottom lip.

He approached her slowly, first checking for signs that she recovered from last night and then for reaction to what she just overheard.

Ginny sighed, emphasizing the rising and falling of her shoulders. He read her posture, feeling a new ease from her. With his hands still in his pockets, Mike leaned his forehead to hers and waited for Ginny’s direction.

She raised a palm to his cheek and whispered, “I think we should tell the team.”

“Are you sure?” he matched the soft tone.

“Yeah,” she nodded against him. “I trust them and I trust you and I think I’d be happier if I didn’t have to be so cautious with the people I trust.”

“Okay,” he pulled back before the camera crew emerged. “Then I’d be happy too.”

* * *

Ginny and Mike entered the clubhouse together, making sure the door closed behind them. As usual, an array of activities occupied their teammates; video games, magazines, music—whatever kept them busy, and no one noticed their teammates standing in the center of the room, preparing themselves to make an announcement.

Mike checked in with Ginny as their shoulders brushed against each other. She rolled her eyes at him and said, “My voice doesn’t boom around the room like yours.”

He tilted his head, challenging, _it would if you tried_ , but nevertheless tore his attention away to bang on a wooden card table. “Listen up! Guys! Hey!”

The team turned at his voice and dropped whatever distracted them. Butterflies erupted in Ginny’s stomach when she felt the eyes of all her teammates on her.

“Uh-oh,” Livan spoke out. “Time for another one of Mike Lawson’s famous, over-the-top, speeches.”

 Low chuckles moved around the room, but everyone soon quieted down, eager to hear what he had to say.

“I can’t believe we only have three more months of Mike Lawson speeches,” a teammate shared behind them.

“Actually, Jake,” Ginny looked over her shoulder. “I’m giving the speech today.”

A combination of lighthearted ‘OoOo’s and cheers shortly followed, which only added to her nervousness. Despite the hint of a smile, Mike sensed her nerves and gave her a nod of encouragement.

Ginny seized the opportunity while the room was still quiet. “Uh, okay, here it goes,” she took a deep breath. “The Padres have really become a family—this season more than ever. I know how much we rely on and trust each other, on and off the field, and how much our bond means to so many of us who might not have had close bonds growing up. So, keeping in line with that family bond we have, Mike and I have an announcement to share with—”

“Congratulations,” Blip made sure he spoke out first.

“Finally!” Sonny added.

“Oh, my, god, you’re pregnant!” A teammate shouted from the corner.

“They got married!”

“No-no!” Ginny tried to settle the clubhouse’s celebrations, but soon gave up, raising her palm up to cover her classic wide smile and turned to Mike.

His smile, too, grew wider and wider at the team’s automatic acceptance of their relationship. The cheering continued until Mike banged the wood again to settle the team down.

Ginny parted her lips to speak again, but another teammate spoke first. “What took you so long to tell us?” and an echo of ‘yeahs’ shortly followed.

“Seriously, you guys, can I—” Her voice did boom around the room then. The team finally settled at her request rather than Mike’s and butterflies erupted again at the respect and love that the team poured out to her. “I just—you guys are amazing, first of all. Thanks for your excitement and acceptance—I’ve never had a team that embraced me totally as an equal and it means so much to me.” She paused briefly, enough to let her sentiment sink it and to take a breath, but not long enough to lose their attention. “I’m sure there’s some of you, because I see your serious faces now and have heard your silent concerns before, that are worried about a romantic relationship between teammates and—don’t boo them, come on, guys—and it concerns both of us too. Part of the reason we’re telling you today, is someone in the press overheard you guys talking about our relationship last night—”

The clubhouse lost all its energy then. Complete silence fell over the room and, despite the honeymoon being over, Ginny couldn’t help but be grateful for it. “Don’t worry, the press isn’t printing it and it’s not getting out—today—but in the spirit of team bonding and team trust, we’re just asking you guys to continue not to speak about our relationship publicly—”

“Or—privately,” Mike finally had something to add to Ginny’s speech.

To which, Ginny’s lips formed a playful, ‘oh!’ “Have they been gossiping about us?” she teased the team, understanding the urge to do so.

Sonny teased back. “Well, maybe we wouldn’t have to if you had made this announcement months ago!”

Ginny nodded in the team’s chimes of agreement. “Okay, okay. Fair enough—but just one last thing. I—We—” she looked at Mike. “Plan on going on just as before. Our relationship is still private and we definitely want to keep it professional at work and not make it into a distraction for the team. So, if you guys can shut your mouths in public, we’ll keep our hands to ourselves when we’re with the team, deal?”

Quite mummers circled the clubhouse as the team considered Ginny’s proposition. Sonny, ever the playful trouble maker, spoke up again. “On one condition, though, Baker.”

Mike smirked and shook his head. “What now, Sonny?”

He grinned back, cocking his chin at Ginny. “Kiss your girl once for us, would ya?”

Cheers erupted around the room. A deep blush seeped over Ginny’s face as giggles came over her. Mike beamed at her, reaching out to prevent her hands from covering her face—a instinct of hers he found increasingly more frustrating the longer they were together. Chants begun to form of, “Kiss, kiss!” and he leaned in closer to her.

They exchanged a nod before their lips touched, ever checking in with each other, and the moment Ginny nodded back, Mike dipped her in his arms, lowering his lips to hers. She cradled his face, stroking his beard, her giggles fading as she lost herself in the moment.

* * *

The Padres team bonding paid off, winning their game against the Cardinals by a landslide. Ginny struck out Trever Davis once, and won another out from him later as he tried to steal second base.

The press couldn’t help but notice the Padres’ new edge in their game, and their extra grins in their interviews afterwards—leaving Rachel Patrick the only reporter not to fall under their celebratory spell. Her mind couldn’t concentrate on anything other than replaying the indistinct, pre-game, locker room cheers; unable to figure out why she couldn’t make out the single word the Padres kept yelling over and over until they erupted into uncontrollable cheers.

Mike and Ginny went out with the team for drinks later that night. When they took their usual places at the head and side of the table, the team took it as a sign that everything would stay as before and their teammates kept their promise not to say anything in public—the players who had trouble containing their excitement somehow found consolation in the fact that the newly-outed couple held hands under the team’s table.


	4. Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Mike's final season comes to a close, he works hard to cherish each moment. The task becomes more difficult for him when he learns Ginny has been dreaming of their future just as much, or more, than he has. 
> 
> A/N: YOU GUYS! ❤️ I'm so sorry the update took so long! But...I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S OVER, though. Thank you all for your participation, love, and encouragement over the course of the story. It meant so much to me and the story has been such a pleasure to write. When I started I *no* idea that the chapters would end up being so long! The four season set-up totally made me break my fanfiction chapter word limit rule! :P
> 
> I am going to write that drabble series taking place during the year of this fic. There are some many moments I reference within the story (hehe, can you find them and request them?!?) and many other that I hope to cover. Look for the series, now called "Moments So Dear" after you finish this, final, chapter.
> 
> ❤️ From the bottom of my heart, thank you, guys.

Mike Lawson’s Final Season of Love:  
A World Series Ring and Secret Romance for Retiree

Rachel Patrick yanked her hands off the keyboard the moment she finished typing like the keys had suddenly lit on fire. Consumed by the title’s weighty significance, the words on the video editing screen somehow magnified to fill her entire field of vision.

She’d never written out them before; never acknowledged any truth to the rumors, never allowed reality to set in. If, of course, reality turned out to be the way the title predicted.

At present, Rachel had no confirmation on either part of the subtitle. The date in the computer’s screen corner read OCTOBER 28th and no further support had emerged to out Mike and Ginny’s secret romance since the summer. Last night, the Padres won their third game in the World Series. This morning, she woke from a nightmare that erased her from her supposed future: Ginny Baker had taken over her house, wore Mike’s wedding ring, and carried his child.

All of Mike’s dreams were coming true with Ginny Baker rather than with Rachel Patrick.

Except, they weren’t, she reminded herself. Neither occurrence in her made-up title had come to pass. She brought her hands to cover her face, hoping to shield the title away—reminding herself not to spin stories for the sake of a catchy headline. She didn’t know why she cared so much anyway. Sure, the story is one reporters dream of: outing secret romances sold papers and attracted viewership...but she didn’t do that kind of reporting. Ginny Baker’s success story continued to be an interest of hers…but her interest had to do with feminism and girl power and equality. Did being a feminist mean rooting for Ginny to choose whoever she wanted to date, even if that blurred the lines between personal and professional? Would she have to think twice about that question if Ginny dated any teammate other than her ex-husband?

Ferociously rubbing her face to erase the crazy idea from her mind, Rachel combed her fingers through her thick red hair and went back to the footage. She brought up an interview with Blip Sanders on the Padres’ baseball field:

_“Blip, with Mike leaving, you’re next in line to be the Padres Team Captain. What does Mike’s leadership bring to the team that you’ll miss? What do you hope to emulate next season?”_

_Blip swayed his hips as he pondered the question, a smirk giving his cheeky thoughts away. “Mike likes to think his leadership and grand speeches hold this team together, but the truth is I’ve always been the glue that holds the Padres together--”_

_“Don’t get too cocky for the camera, buddy!” Ginny called out, walking with Mike in the background of the shot. The two walked so_ close _together, their shoulders could easily be touching._

_“I’m still captain of this team for two more months!” Mike played along, calling out before Blip could continue._

_Blip shook his head, an amused smile tugging his lips as he looked over his shoulder at them. “We’ll see about that!” He called back._

_Mike added a serious tone to his tease. “Yeah, we will!”_

_Blip’s amusement grew as he returned his attention to the camera. Once in profile again, the camera captured the two teammates in the background. They stopped walking to put on their gear._

_“No, no, in all seriousness, it’ll be such an honor to take the helm from Mike next season. He’s an extraordinary leader for the team and has everyone’s back. Over the last three years, the Padres have become such a family—in a way we’ve never have before and it’s clear that’s in large part due to Mike and--” Blip bite his lip to prevent himself from speaking. He swallowed and then corrected himself, “Mike and his commitment to the team.”_

_“What will you miss about Mike’s presence on the team?” Rachel followed-up the question._

_“Oh, um,” Blip rocked his hips again in thought. “I don’t know. I don’t think that far ahead. We, as a team, have tried not to focus on the fact that this is Mike’s final season and, actually, Mike’s been encouraging that choice, which is nice.”_

_“Really? That doesn’t seem like Mike,” she revealed her genuine surprise._

_“Ha, ha, I know, right?” The camera highlighted the pride on Blip’s face before he turned serious. “For those of us who really know Mike, he has become much less of a grump this season. He has a new energy and hope as he…How do I say it? His focus isn’t_ spilt _between his team and his future, but it’s…he’s conscious of his future so he’s seizing the moment in a way he hasn’t done before—which, as his best friend and his teammate—I’m happy to see. And though the losses have been few and far between this summer, knock on wood, Mike swallows them much better than in years past—and I think that has a tremendous effect on--”_

_Laughter in the background distracted Blip from the interview. He spun at the noise, taking up more of the camera frame and blocking most Ginny and Mike from view. Seconds later, however, they came into focus. In a silent exchange, Ginny handed him batting gloves while he placed a mitt in her outstretched palm._

Rachel stopped the footage there, pausing on a frame that captured a meaningful look and a secret smile on Mike’s face. She’d know that look of love on Mike’s face anywhere. Even during her own marriage to Mike, they’d never acted like that together…like an old married couple, so attune to the other, they could predict the other’s wants and needs without speaking.

She covered her face again and ran her fingers through her hair, tugging harder at the strands. Pushing away from the desk, Rachel spun the swivel chair until she faced the opposite wall.

 _What the hell was she doing?_ Even if she uncovered the truth and could out a secret relationship for a bigger viewership…she wouldn’t do it. She shouldn’t be the one to—not as Mike’s ex-wife and not as Ginny’s feminist defender.

* * *

“When we get married,” Mike whispered in Ginny’s ear before kissing his way down her neck. “I’m going to wake you up like this every morning.”

“Hmm,” she murmured, stirring awake. “When we get married, we’ll have a dog and a kid and I’m going to kick your ass out so far of bed for waking up your sleeping wife—especially when she’s in the middle of the World Series.”

He froze mid-kiss at her response. Currently cuddled against her pajama covered back, he couldn’t see her expression. He considered turning her over to see it, but a particular edge in her voice warned him against it.

Drawing back from her neck, Mike realized Ginny’s response was the first time she’d acknowledged the marriage hints he’d been dropping. Always laughing along or pretending not to hear him, he thought she’d respond much the same way this morning. His heartbeat thudded in his chest, realizing the possibilities of the moment. He swallowed, “Are you—Are you saying you’ll marry me?”

Ginny sighed and wrestled with her sheets. He gave her the space to do so, thinking she endured the struggle in order to turn back to him. When she pulled the blankets closer to her instead, Mike’s restless mind lost its battle with self-control and turned her over to face him. She buried herself between the comforter and the pillow and refused to open her eyes. “Ginny…you mention a dog and a kid and now you won’t talk me…are you trying to torture me?”

“I’m trying to sleep, Mike!”

“You’re not a morning person. I know. My bad, but, babe,” he pulled her from her cocoon. “Your Old Man is dying here, so you really, really can’t sleep right now.”

“Ugh!” Her eyes flew open, she sat up, and slammed the comforter into her lap. “I’m really, really not a morning person.”

“Yeah…” he drunk her beauty in when their eyes met for the first time that day. Even in her grumpy state, with her untamed curls sticking out in all directions and sleepiness in the corner of her eyes, she still looked wondrous. “I know. I didn’t think you would hear me.”

She adjusted the pillows and leaned back against their puffiness. “Did you think I would hear the other twenty-five hints you dropped in the last month?”

“I—no—it hasn’t been—not twenty-five hints—” Mike stuttered through her bluntness.

“Mike, you knew I knew what you were doing because you know I always know what you are doing --” Her voice changed to sarcasm. “It’s one of the joys of having a secret language!”

He pulled back in fake-offence. “How dare you speak aloud of our sacred language!”

“How dare you wake me up at--” she peered down at the alarm clock, now even more horrified. “At six-thirty in the morning when we’re in the middle of the World Series!”

“Ginny!” He insisted, finding it difficult to ignore her horrified cuteness. To emphasize it, she picked up the alarm clock from the nightstand, brought it to her face, let her jaw drop dramatically at the same time. She then shoved it in his face to make sure he saw the time. He nodded and lowered it into the comforter. “Can we get back to your response to how I woke you up five minutes ago?”

“Oh! You want to talk about that!” She continued her early morning sarcasm. “Great! That’s exactly what I wanted to talk about.”

Mike beamed, “Really?”

“Yes!” Managing to keep the fake-surprise, she added, “I would like to talk about how the first time I responded to one of your hints, you totally freaked out and wouldn’t let it go!” She dropped the act, making her annoyance clear. “Talk about screwing with our sacred language, Old Man!”

“So…” he tucked his chin, ignoring her frustration. “Are you saying there’s hope, Rookie?”

“I said…I am saying--” Ginny swallowed, erasing all emotion from her face as she gathered her thoughts. “I am saying exactly what I said—a husband should know not to wake up his wife,” she stated, impassioned. “Especially not after she’s been pushing her body all week in the World Series—which, by the way, has been your dream for like—Ever—”

“Well, my new dream is to be your husband.”

“Yeah, Mike. I got that…did you get that I want to sleep? Because I really would like to go back to sleep now…”

“And I want a dog and a kid—”

“Yeah, well, the dog is coming at the end of the season and you’ll just have to wait for the kid--”

“What did you just say?”

“I. Am. Not. Skipping next season to have a kid with you!” She slid into the covers. “Get over it!”

“No…” he said softly, still amazed they were having this conversation. “The thing about the dog.”

“Oh. Yeah.” In one fluid motion, Ginny flipped the comforter from over her head and folded it over her chest. “That surprise just got ruined,” she sent daggers through her eyes, “Because you woke me up at Six. Thirty. In. The. Morning. And I am not a morning person!”

“You got me a dog?”

“Mmm,” she pulled the covers back. “We can pick up the golden retriever puppy in a week. Perhaps a puppy will rival the new crazy you we talked about. I figured you’d need another creature to adore when I’m gone pitching or—when you’re—Awake! So! Early!”

“And you want to have my kid?”

“Mmm,” she hummed the same casual tone, making music for Mike’s ears. She turned on a side, concealing a smile from him, giving him nothing to scrutinize but her backside and a tangle of curls. “After I play three or four more seasons. I’m still young, you know. Or—I can take a season off…I’m not sure…I can’t make decisions right now.”

“And you want to marry me?”

“You already knew that!” She exclaimed twisting her head around, referring to her responses to the hints he’d been dropping all month. “Just to be clear, though. If you propose to me at the end of World Series—which I could tell just popped into your head, without even looking at you—my honest refusal will ruin our last season playing together and crush your soul, so I advise not doing that.”

Mike gaped at her. “I was not considering doing that!”

“Liar,” huffed the body beside him.

Not a single beat passed before the mood changed in the bedroom. Giggles erupted in Ginny when Mike took her by the sides, pulling her closer to start tickling her. “What did you just say?” His beard brushed her cheek as he curved around her, planting kisses everywhere except on her lips. “Did you just call me a liar?”

“Hmm—ah---” she exclaimed, trying to control her laughter. She leaned into him and her backside pressed against his front. He returned the pressure, the smile leaving his face when she turned to face him. She too, stop giggling the moment their gazes collided, and adjusted her position when he started to move on top of her.

Mike ran his fingers through the lose hair strands around her face, tucking them behind an ear. She leaned in for a kiss and he met it only briefly before resting his forehead against hers.

They both closed their eyes to experience of their favorite intimate touches. Stilling for a moment, they listened to the other’s quiet breathing and felt eyelashes against their skin.

He broke the silence first, whispering, “So, in all this life planning you’ve been doing,” his fingers ran up her arms to cup her face. “Have you thought about when you want me to propose?”

Ginny’s eyes slid open gracefully, as if suddenly full of wisdom. “You’ll know the right time.”

Mike tried to speak, but all he could do was stare.

She reached up and ran her hands through his hair. Lying under him, she shrugged, “Sometime after the dog and before the kid turns ten.”

He nodded against her forehead, still whispering, “Nothing more specific?”

A soft smile lightened her face. She glowed under him, emitting joy and wisdom, love and trust. “You’ll know.”

Entranced by her beauty, he waited a moment longer to make his move, wishing he could capture this moment and replay it forever. Wondrous curls spread over the pillow, slowly losing their volume from being woken so early. Her eyes twinkled and her cheeks blushed as she watched him above, daring him to kiss her.

And then, he couldn’t wait any longer. Lowering his lips to hers, he captured them passionately, kissing them both before giving attention to one lip at a time. She responded equally to his fervor, her head lifting to meet his enthusiasm. Reaching around him, Ginny pulled his grey shirt off and he broke their contact just long enough to throw to the floor. His hands returned to unbutton her wide, white pajama buttons and he lowered to kiss a breast before the pajama top came off completely. Once out of the shirt, she leaned into him, bringing their bare chests closer together. He reached down to pull off her pajama bottoms and underwear and returned to her lips as she freed him of his boxer shorts.

Their tongues met when Ginny’s hands returned to his face—her fingers running through the strands of his beard. She stroked the hairs against his jaw line and then released them to wrap her arms around his neck. They broke the kiss when he entered her. Delightful moans murmured through the bedroom as they buried their faces in the curves between their shoulders and necks.

After almost a year together, they still found ways to discover parts of themselves in the other. With Ginny, Mike found a levity and a passion he thought could only exist in the young. With Mike, Ginny found a stability and a strength that kept her grounded.

Mike and Ginny spent the rest of the morning’s early hours in bed together. Sometimes sharing lighthearted laughter and other times passion filled the space between them. By the time the sun rose in the sky, they parted ways like usual: Ginny off to her sanctuary in the Padres’ workout room and Mike off to his, finding an unexpected peace in the empty clubhouse during his last season as a Padre before the rest of the boys trampled in for the day.

* * *

Like most times he entered the clubhouse, Mike did everything he could to forget about Ginny. But, like always, whether they were privately celebrating or lonely from not talking to each other, Ginny Baker didn’t stray far from his thoughts. 

He found his cubby, threw his bag inside it, and fell into a chair, leaning back with it as far as he could go. He inhaled the unique smell that could only belong to the Padres’ club house: a weighty mixture of colognes attempted to cover up the sweat-filled odor that never seemed to leave no matter how many cleaning crews made their rounds. Not that it smelled bad per say…On the contrary, Mike would miss its welcoming allure. The further he got into his last season, the more pungent the smell became to him—another growing reminder that his time playing for the Padres had an expiration date.

“I’ve discovered your secret,” Al’s voice echoed when he entered the clubhouse to find Mike alone.

Mike sat up quickly, causing the back of his chair to overreact to his actions, pushing him forward rather than supporting his upright posture. “W-what?”

Al took Blip’s seat next to him and examined Mike with the quiet wisdom he’d share more and more often with the passing of time. “You didn’t think you could keep it a secret from me forever, do you?”

“Al--” Ginny immediately popping into his head, Mike turned the swivel chair and narrowed his eyes, “What are you--”

Chuckling like an omnipotent leader, Al continued, “You don’t think I noticed? The closer you get to your season ending, the earlier you come in here—like you’re trying to soak up the last of this place’s sacredness.”

“Oh,” Mike relaxed. “Yeah, I don’t think I soaked enough of it up before.”

“It always seems to happen that way, doesn’t it? That we don’t learn to appreciate things until they’re slipping through our fingers.” Al scanned over his favorite player—the one who’d been with him the longest. “Each time you come in here to meditate how to best seize the moment as a player, you have a silent thought—maybe a prayer or dream—for your future beyond baseball,”

“What are you saying?” Mike shifted uncomfortably. “That I shouldn’t—”

Al waved his hands out between them, “No, no, no.” Once Mike relaxed, Al dropped his hands. “I’m saying it’s important to do that. In your last season, you’re finally finding that balance between a professional life and a personal one and that’s hard to do. So, I’m congratulating and thanking you for reminding me to do that in my last season as well.”

“Al.” Mike stated firmly after his obvious insinuation to a previous offer for Mike to take over his job. “I’m still flattered…but I still don’t want your job—”

Al hit the chair’s armrest once like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Mike let out a short chuckle in response. “There’s no one better than you, Mike.”

“I can’t do it, Al.”

“Is it the break thing?” He started grasping for straws. “Do you just need a break? Maybe I could hold the job for you until--”

Mike shook his head, cutting Al off. “I do need a break. But that’s not it.”

A new curiosity consumed Al and replaced his desperation. His grip on the armrest relaxed and his voice softened. “Then what is it?”

Some players burst into the clubhouse at that moment and prevented Mike from giving Al an answer. Indistinct chatter hushed when they spotted Mike, a lone warning of, “It’s a secret,” broke through the murmurs.

Mike stood when he spotted Blip in the center of the team, quieting the commotion. Al stood as well, noting the team’s odd behavior. Blip turned to meet Mike, his telling eyes—the ones Mike learned to read so well this year, the year when Blip earned more of Mike’s trust than knew possible—revealed the team’s chatter and excitement had, once again, revolved around Mike Lawson. “What’s a secret?” He demanded from Blip, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh. Um…” Blip looked back at the team—all of them warning him from saying anything. After their last year, however, his instincts to be honest with Mike overruled the team’s pleadings. “We’re working on a surprise gift for you and Ginny for your retirement.”

Disappointed sighs and defeated stances from the team followed Blip’s announcement. He smirked at them while waiting for a positive response from Mike.

He didn’t find one, however. Mike tighten his crossed arms and wrinkled his forehead. “That’s, uh, really thoughtful…you guys, but, uh,” he shifted his weight between his feet. “Ginny specifically said she didn’t want any surprises and we have a World Series to win, so let’s just focus on that right now. I really don’t want or need anything and we don’t have the ring yet--”

“Trust us--” Dusty started.

“You and Ginny will like the surprise,” Sonny finished.

Mike sighed and shook his head, unable to come up with a good response that wouldn’t dampen their spirits.

In Mike’s hesitation, Al voiced his own confusion. “What does Baker have to do with a retirement gift for Mike?” Silence met the question as the team looked to one another, realizing for the first time that they managed to be such good secret keepers their manager didn’t catch on to their teammates’ romance. Noticing their quietness, he offered, “I mean, I know they’re close, but--”

“Skip…” Mike started softly. He looked down at his shuffling feet before regaining a strong composure. Al scrutinized him, wondering when the last time was that his team captain had called him ‘Skip.’ Most of his players called him that after receiving orders, especially Baker and the newer, younger additions to the team, but rarely Mike. “Ginny and I have been together—dating—for almost a year now.”

Al scoffed, looking from Mike to the team who were still clumped together in the clubhouse. “Wait…” A smirk turned into a wide grin as he processed the news. “You and Baker…really? How the hell did you manage to get that pretty girl and keep that a secret? You lucky dog.” Mike chuckled off his apprehension of Al’s reaction and let his happiness beamed through. “Thank God I didn’t know; I never could’ve kept my mouth shut—”

Mike pointed at him seriously, “You still have to keep it shut--”

“Come on,” Sonny heckled. “You’re so damn cautious. We’ve won three out of our four World Series games. It’ll be less than a week before you guys can go out in public.”

“Sonny,” Mike warned. As much as he appreciated the truth behind Sonny’s troublemaking ways, the effort to protect Ginny and their relationship had taught him to take nothing for granted; that they had made it this far without a PR disaster was only thanks to the caution and seriousness everyone had that knew their secret. “It’s still Fight Club. Ginny and I will go out in public when we make the decision to…and all of you have to respect that.”

“Wait,” Al dropped his grin, realizing he was still behind. “What’s ‘Fight Club’?” He asked, but everyone ignored him.

Sonny shook his head, “You’re no fun,” he reminded Mike.

Blip came to Mike’s defense, “Much better to be cautious than have a scandalous story haunting the team during the season,” he pointed between Sonny and Mike, “You have no idea the sacrifices Ginny and Mike have made for this team, so…showing them a little respect and abiding to their wishes is the least you can do.”

Whenever Blip defended their relationship, Mike felt a little in awe of him. Automatic gratitude and respect washed over him, always making him speechless for a moment.

“But—” Sonny tried to interject again, but Blip’s stern look preventing him from doing so.

Al turned to address Mike directly, putting more of the pieces together. “Is that why you won’t take my job? Because Baker will still be on the team?” Still stunned at the news, Al’s jaw hung open after he finished talking.

Blip’s gaze narrowed and he stepped towards Mike. “Wait, wait, wait—you got offered a job to manage the Padres—your team, your loyal, soul-consuming, fight-tooth-and-nail-for team—and you turned it down?”

“I thought you’d be happy I did so, Blip.” Despite Blip’s words, Mike couldn’t tell how he really felt about the decision. “Hasn’t keeping our secret been hard enough for one season?”

“So, that’s why you turned it down?” Blip clarified. “To be with Ginny?”

“No…I—” Mike paused, reflecting for a moment. “Ginny has little to do with it. I have a chance to start my life over and I’m going to take it. I’m going to get a dog and a—” he cut himself off before he said, ‘kid.’ “And go on vacation and be bored for a bit…see what happens…I need a break, Blip.” He shared with his friend, and then turned to Al, making sure his manager heard the explanation as well.

Blip nodded at him, a proud smile tugged at his lips. “Yes, you do, brother.”

For now, Mike’s gratitude and respect for Blip, not to mention the debt he and Ginny owed him, would have to be reflected in a smile. Perhaps a World Series Ring would be a start to repay him for his loyalty and support, but really, Mike looked forward to the simple years of friendship ahead of them.

“Thank you,” he responded softly, as if in a private conversation, but loud enough for the whole team to hear.

Al shook his head at the obvious brotherhood between Blip and Mike. He smiled at it too, waving as he begun to walk back to his office in disbelief. “The first woman ball player dating a teammate, gay players in the majors, captains balancing their own happiness with their teams’, teammates bonding together to keep a romance out of the press…not to mention from their manager…What a year to be a Padre…Hey—” Al turned back to his team. “And that’s all to say nothing of the fact we’re ending the season in the World Series…what a year!”

Before emotion got the best of him, Al reached for the doorknob to his office, leaving the team with, “I’m certainly going to miss you guys.”

* * *

“What a year to be a Padre,” Joe Buck announced over a wide shot of Petco Park during Game 5 of the World Series.

“They’ve had quite a season, Joe, that’s for sure,” John Smoltz agreed with him. “And obviously have quite a team—pulling out all the stops for their outgoing, retiring Captain Mike Lawson.”

“I don’t think it’s just for Lawson’s last games, John.” Joe watched with the rest of the world as the teams returned to their dugouts and prepared for the top of the ninth inning. “The Padres have been on fire all season, really turning up the heat since July…This is a team who have never won a World Series Ring—”

“Though they did come close in 1984 and 1998—” John chimed in.

Joe continued, “Staying on top of your game for three months, coming together as a team…that’s not just about one person or two. Not only does each player have to be at their best, but the team unit has to be at their best. That combination of things, as the Padres know all too well, is hard to achieve.”

“It certainly is, although we are jumping ship prematurely here, the Padres haven’t won yet.”

“No, they haven’t,” Joe agreed. “While the Padres are leading 6 to 4, three runs aren’t out of the question here at the top of the ninth. I sense tension in the Padres’ bullpen. Let’s have a look.”

To an outsider, the Padres’ bullpen might seem full of tension. An insider, however, would know that two qualities that defined the team. The first made them no different than any other baseball team: they were superstitious—and wouldn’t dare break any good pressure or tension that kept them focused. Much more unique to the Padres was the second quality, a quality that strengthened the more they trusted each other: the ability to communicate fluently without speaking.

Al signaled to Mike. Mike stood and stared down the bench; his sitting teammates looking at him for direction, for inspiration one last time. For once, he had nothing to say. Instead of missing the chance for one last speech, gratitude and pride came when he realized didn’t have to give one.

From Mike, Al’s boyish grin turned to Ginny, who, just from the sight of its mischievous quality would have told her he knew their secret if Mike hadn’t informed her earlier. She stood and walked to Mike’s side, surprised at the butterflies that erupted at the life-changing possibilities the next inning could hold.

Blip, as usual, grounded them both to the reality of the present. “Any last words, Captain?”

Soaking up the feeling his title evoked one last time, Mike managed to still his heart, somehow making a deal with Time to stop it from moving for a moment. He took the time to remember the image of his teammates together, waiting for his leadership. Then, just as the seconds started to tick forward again, turned to share a giddy smile with Blip and Ginny.

Hands clapped together once, nods were exchanged, and soon Mike led his team out of the dugout—his fingers intertwined with Ginny’s behind his back.

He let go first, in the moment after they climbed the two steps up to the field, but Ginny held on a longer, her who-gives-a-fuck attitude returning.

The cameras did catch the last touch between the pitcher and catcher, but as emotions often intensified between teammates during moments with high stakes or celebration, no baseball professional thought too much of it.

Watching along with the rest of the world, Joe Buck and John Smoltz did their best to comment over the emotion. “Alright, Joe, are you ready for this? The Padres clearly holding onto each other as they take up their positions for what could possibility be their last time playing ball with their beloved captain.”

“I can’t even imagine what’s going through Lawson’s mind right now. I hope he has a chance to soak it all in-”

“Rumor has it, he’s doing his best,” John shamelessly promoted the Mike Lawson special airing in December. “Have you heard about that special Rachel Patrick is doing on him? It seems to hint he’s found a new attitude in his last season.”

“Even as I watch now,” Joe refocused on the game. “Lawson puts down the sign for Baker, Baker nods, the wind and the pitch---Perfect strike to start of the top of the ninth.”

“That fire sure is hard to put out, Joe.”

Joe turned to John, “Do you think the Padres will share their secrets with us after the Series?”

“I don’t know, Joe. I guess we’ll have to watch and see.”

And they did—along with the rest of the world. The second out followed within ten minutes, a hit to the outfield that Blip caught in the center of his glove. One run followed after that, leaving the third out harder to achieve.

“That’s one ball and two strikes for Baker,” John commented further into the inning. “The pressure she must been feeling right now. Not only is she pitching Mike Lawson’s last game, but—and the reminders never get old, or rather, shouldn’t get old—Ginny Baker could be breaking ground again, becoming the first woman pitcher to win a World Series Ring.”

Joe continued commentating. “The wind and the pitch---Ball Two for Baker. The pressure must be getting to her, John.”

“Can’t really blame her, can you, though?”

“No, not really,” Joe watched Ginny’s head lower, her feet shuffling through dirt on the ground. “Ah, here comes Lawson to talk it over.”

Mike’s heart pounded in his chest as he walked one final time to meet Ginny on the mound as her catcher. Though he’d deny later…he knew the moment would be their last on the mound as pitcher and catcher, the tingling excitement through his body and the pain in his chest told him it would be.

He stopped six inches from her and raised his glove to cover his mouth. She did the same, hiding her whole expression except for her telling brown eyes. Their eyes were all they needed to see, though. Looking into them, Ginny realized he wouldn’t speak. And she didn’t dare disrupt their silence. She didn’t need a speech…and he didn’t need to give her one.

It all came down to connection, to bond, to history. He knew what she felt and she felt the same tingling in her body and pain in her chest as he did. Somehow, they both forgot the moment, erased the crowds and the bright lights and the other players…and just reminded the other to breathe. One deep breath in followed by one deep breath out.

Mike nodded at Ginny and Ginny nodded at Mike and then…he disappeared.

John spoke over Mike’s run back to home plate. “One can only imagine what words were traded between those two teammates…”

“Whatever they were, they have the potential to be life-changing for both of them...” Joe replied quickly, not wanting to miss the action. “Lawson puts down the sign. Baker winds up…And it’s…STRIKE THREE FOR BAKER. THE PADRES WIN THE WORLD SERIES!”

Celebratory screams turn deafening. The Padres ran to the middle of the field for a group hug. As the entire team reached for one another, Ginny and Mike remained frozen in their positions, jaws dropped, staring at each other from sixty feet, six inches away.

Tearing off his catcher’s mask, Mike stood for a better look at Ginny. Too in shock to join in the celebrations, he left it up to her to lead him in.

Which, of course, she did. Just not in the way he expected.

Ginny ignored her teammates and ran directly to home plate. Her arms pulling him in for a giant, life-changing, secret-relationship outing, kiss.

She had planned their seemingly spontaneous kiss for months, maybe an entire year. She didn’t remember when the plan cemented in her mind. But she knew…as long as they were together and as long as he played his last inning ever with her as pitcher and him as catcher, Ginny Baker didn’t want to out their secret relationship any other way.

On her terms.

After Mike recovered from the shock of her decision and felt of her lips on his. He kissed her back with enthusiasm. His knees somehow knowing they played their last game and they allowed him to lift her up and spin her around.

Stunned along with the rest of the world, the commentators starred at the couple without quite knowing what to say. “Well, Joe, I think they shared one of their secrets with us…”

“Ginny Baker and Mike Lawson together…” Joe voiced the thoughts of the entire stadium, the entire world, as the kiss replayed on the screen. “Talk about life-changing moments…”

* * *

Lightbulbs flashed in Mike Lawson’s face as he sat down for the Padres’ World Series Victory press conference later that night. His teammates lined the long table, microphones evenly spaced over it, one for every two players. Blinking in the flashes, he couldn’t tell who sat next to him and worse, in the shuffle, he’d lost track of Ginny—something he felt especially uncomfortable with given their public outing an hour ago.

He felt a body sit next to him, and then another one on the other side. Between their reassuring presence and his mind still euphorically replaying the moment with Ginny on the field, the press’ ever entitled demands of his attention were ignored.

Three full minutes passed before he could make out their yells of, “Mike and Ginny! Ginny! Mike!”

When he regained his composure enough to speak, he leaned towards the microphone. His lips parted, but no words came, giving Blip—who, apparently sat beside him—the chance to take over the mic.

“Hello, everyone!” Blip started overly-confident and clearly unimpressed with the press’ expected new obsession. “Thank you for sharing in our team’s excitement in our historic night. I’d like it noted that not only is our win the first time in history that the San Diego Padres have won a World Series, but it is also the first time in history a woman pitcher has led her team to victory. We could not be more proud of her as she works harder than all of us and is often the glue that holds our team together--”

The reporter with the bouncy, curly hair managed to enunciate the first question. “Ginny! Ginny! Are you and Mike a couple? How long have you been together? Did your teammates know? Was the kiss tonight your first kiss? An congratulations kiss? A kiss goodbye?”

Though she expected the questions, she couldn’t help the heat that blushed her cheeks. “I—um—” Mike located her when she spoke. Expecting to find a shy, uncomfortable Ginny Baker, surprise hitting him when he noticed her sitting tall with confidence. “You sure do have a lot of questions, Anne. While I understand the interest, I’m going re-emphasize Blip’s point that tonight is the first time the Padres have won a World Series ever, so let’s not take too much away from that, please?”

“One question,” the reporter named Anne insisted.

“One question,” Ginny granted.

The press stilled at Ginny’s allowance, hanging on her every word. Anne swallowed, overthinking how to ask a question in a way to confirm the most information possible.

In her frenzy, she forgot to ask for any details, merely going with, “Are you and Mike together, a couple?”

Ginny smiled to herself and looked down the table to Mike for permission. He nodded at her. “Yes.”

The press erupted. Questions after details, seeking any information they could get their hands on were shouted through the room.

The Padres, however, leaned back in the chairs and away from the mics. Though Ginny worried her teammates might resent her for the attention, especially following a historic World Series win, they didn’t really—too busy with being high from celebration and cocky from besting the press.

Once the press settled, Blip sat forward and spoke into a mic. “It might interest you to know that the team has prepared a statement about the relationship between its female pitcher and its captain—” Blip hesitated, turning to Mike. “Captain? Former captain? What are we going with Mike?”

“I’m your captain until our wrap party and my cubby is cleared, Sanders.” Mike stated strongly.

“Right.” Blip nodded. “Of course, Lawson…Now to our statement—”

“What statement?” Mike challenged him.

Ginny leaned towards her mic and tilted her head down the table. “It’s your surprise retirement gift.”

Mike leaned in to look at her, his shock clear. “You know about this?”

“Of course I know about this!” She shot him down quickly. “They’d be insane to prepare a statement without talking to me first!”

“They didn’t talk to me!”

Ginny gestured out with a flat palm. “Hence a surprise gift for your retirement…”

“These two,” interjected Sonny. “So perfect for each other!”

“Sonny!” Blip, Ginny, and Mike all leaned into their mics to protest at the same time.

“It’s true!” Sonny exclaimed.

“Behind the scenes of the Padres everyone!” Blip ended the chatter. He brought out the prepared statement from his lapel pocket and read. “To the members of press and Padres’ fans around the world; we are pleased to share with you our own words on the personal relationship between Mike Lawson and Ginny Baker, knowing that after we do so, none of us will comment upon it publically again.” Blip took a breath. “We, as a team would like to come out in full support of Mike and Ginny as a couple. They have kept their personal relationship private and stayed professional as teammates. None of us have ever felt uncomfortable with their private relationship and are happy that they found each other. We understand the curiosity about some details of their relationship, but we’d like to emphasize that any further questions about it are strictly off limits and no Padres’ team member will be answering them. We ask for your respect for their—and our—privacy in this matter.” Blip cleared his throat. “On a separate, but related note: As Mike retires, we as a team are sorry to see him go, but wish him nothing but the best. He has been the best captain and catcher our team could ask for. We hope he enjoys his retirement with Ginny and are glad that he has perfect excuse to come to all of our home games.” Blip returned the statement into his lapel. “Now…Do any of you people have any baseball questions?”

* * *

“Come on, Mike!” Ginny tugged at their intertwined fingers. “We’re going to miss it!”

Torn between Ginny in his left hand and their new dog’s leash in his right, Mike Lawson could safely say that one month into his retirement he had his hands full. The break he sought after seemed would start only after Ginny’s next season began.

Not that he minded. In fact, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“We’re not going to miss it!” Mike released her hand to offer a treat to Leia, their golden retriever puppy. “But Leia is currently peeing on a Christmas decoration set of ewoks dressed up as elves…so it’s going to have to wait.”

Ginny trudged back to him, shoving her bare hands into warm jacket pockets. “I’m sure there’s cuteness or irony there, but I am too cold to see it at the moment.”

Mike grinned at Ginny’s sensitivity to fifty-degree weather and waited Leia out rather than pulling her along.

Turning away, Ginny rolled her eyes at Mike’s insistence to take his time. Once fully turned, however, she bumped into a teenage girl walking up the street in the opposite direction.

“Oh, my, god!” The girl started freaking out. “It’s Ginny Baker! I love you! You’re like—my role model!”

“Really? Thanks.” Ginny kept her composure. “Do you play baseball?”

“No, I—” Spotting Mike behind her, the girl went speechless for a moment. “Ohmygod, oh, my, god, it’s Bawson! You look so different without the beard! I love you guys! Aw, you’re out walking your dog together, that’s so cute!”

Ginny nodded along with the girl’s infatuation, letting Mike find a way to politely send her on her off. Once alone, she wasted no time conveying her un-amusement. “Remind me to kill Sonny for naming us that.”

He chuckled and wrapped his arm around her as they walked the three houses down towards their front door. “Oh, come on, you know you love the Bawson, deep down…”

Reaching for his hand on her shoulder, she cuddled closer to him, watching their puppy trot ahead of them, as if already knowing the way home. “What I know is—there is a large bowl of popcorn and a wide TV screen, both waiting for us at home.”

Ginny’s excitement grew when she entered their house. A single excited shriek burst from her as she flung a quilt over her on the couch, impatiently waiting for Mike and Leia to join her.

Leia jumped up on one side of her while Mike cuddled around her other side, placing a kiss on top of her head. She rested against his clean-shaven face and turned on the TV just in time for Rachel’s special to start:

Mike Lawson’s Final Season of Love:  
A World Series Ring and Secret Romance for Retiree

**Author's Note:**

> Usually, I have a little more chill, but I lost it :P - So, don't forget to leave a comment, enticing me to update faster! ♥︎ Much love to Baswson fans!


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